Motivation, humor, and honesty from a man actively dodging a midlife crisis so you can too.

Not in the back where he's normally next to his twin sister.

Just him and me. Side by side.

For nine years, I’ve been looking at him in the rearview mirror. Or twisting around at red lights.

This time, I just looked over.

And saw him in a way I never had before.

As a person. Not just my kid.

I saw his growth.

How he asked questions.

How he processed things.

His sense of humor.

And how he looked at me. His Dad.

I told him: "In the backseat, you always get Dad. But up here, you're gonna get some Tony too. You're gonna see more of me."

He nodded like he got it.

He asked to play his music.

I told him nope. Played mine instead.

Suddenly they’re not “the teacher.”

They’re just a person buying cereal. In jeans. Human.

The role disappears. The person shows up.

That's what happened when he sat next to me.

Not because he changed.

But because I looked at him from a new angle.

This can happen everywhere if you let it.

Not across a desk, but on a walk or grabbing coffee?

When’s the last time you saw your aging parent as a person?

Not just “Mom” or “Dad,” but someone with their own history and their own hard days?

When’s the last time you saw your spouse outside the routine?

Not doing carpool or dishes but somewhere that reminds you who they were before life got heavy?

The angle you see someone from determines what you see.

Shift the context, even a little, and you unlock something new.

Most relationships stay stuck because the angle never changes.

Same seat. Same role. Same script.

But move the setting, even just a little, and you see things you’ve been missing.

My son didn’t change when he sat in the front seat.

I just finally saw him.

Antonio

PS: Digged this? Grab me a coffee.

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