An Embarrasing Habit

I have an embarassing habit.
I hug my wife based on far too few visual cues.
My wife is a short brown haired girl who wears old navy.
The same is true for 30% of the female population in my town.
I kissed one today.

Seriously...it was like this.
I was talking to a friend as I walked into a dinner party at his house. We went to the deck as we were talking. I continued to look at him and then turned to see that his backyard was a panoramic golf course view. I listened to him as I looked out on the panoramic view. I knew my wife was on the deck, so I walked to her.

Note that the eyes have not left the panoramic view.

So I go to my wife (as defined as "a short brown haired girl with an old navy shirt.") I kiss her on the head. Her hair smells different, I comment on it, a sense of danger and fear rising in my brain stem. My mind works to beat down the cognitive dissonance as I stair at the panoramic course and I ask her "Your hair smells nice, is that different."

My wife says something weird, "Ryan, look down, she's over there. This is Amy."
So that was embarassing.