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A quick personal update before today’s Habit Example:
After more than 10 years of building websites for other people, my wife and I finally launched our own tiny website design agency together.
I’ve poured an embarrassing number of hours into making this something I’m genuinely proud of.
Our thing is simple: We design and launch a completely custom (and ridiculously beautiful) website in just 7 days for $1,500.
And because you’ve stuck around as a Habit Example reader, I wanted to give you first dibs on a little launch special:
For the next 24 hours, or for the first 3 people who claim it, whichever comes first, you can get your new website for $1,000.
That’s $500 off, just for being here early.
And no, “3 spots” isn’t some magic marketing number. With how much time and art and effort I put into each site, I can’t take more than 3 this week and still finish yours in 7 days.
Now, for today’s Habit Example…
Yesterday, I was on the phone with my mom while she looked through the new website.
There’s one section I’m especially proud of.
You scroll down to a giant pile of website-builder logos. Then, as you keep scrolling, the entire pile pulls apart and reveals a beautiful finished website underneath.
What happens next as you keep scrolling is probably the coolest part of the whole site. (no spoilers, gotta go see for yourself)
Except my mom never saw it.
She reached the pile, paused, and said something along the lines of:
“Oh… is that the end?”
She genuinely thought the website was over.
If I hadn’t told her to keep scrolling, she would have completely missed the part I was most excited for her to see.
And that exposed something I never would have caught by staring at the website myself for another three hours:
I knew what was supposed to happen next.
She didn’t.
Once we know something well, it becomes surprisingly difficult to remember what it felt like not to know it.
And that doesn’t only happen when we’re building websites.
It happens when we teach a class at church and use a word like “atonement” without explaining what it actually means, or casually mention Jonah going to Nineveh as if everyone remembers who Jonah is, where Nineveh was, and why he really didn’t want to go there.
It happens when we give someone at work a new responsibility, quickly say, “Just update the spreadsheet and send me the report every Friday,” then wonder why they used the wrong numbers, saved it in the wrong place, or formatted it completely differently than we pictured.
It happens when we ask our spouse to “clean up the kitchen,” assuming they know whether we mean wash the dishes, clear the counters, sweep the floor, or somehow notice the weird sticky spot underneath the toaster that has been quietly bothering us for three weeks.
It happens when we ask a friend to grab a tool from the garage, teach our child how to fold laundry, or introduce a new play to your football team.
We know what we mean.
We can see the finished result in our heads.
But they can’t.
Then, when something gets missed, it’s easy to assume they weren’t listening, didn’t care, or should have known better.
Sometimes they just couldn’t see the part that felt obvious to us.
So here’s a habit worth stealing:
Whenever you’re teaching, explaining, or handing something off, pause and ask yourself:
“What am I assuming they already know?”
Then, if possible, let them try it without immediately jumping in to help.
Watch where they hesitate.
Notice what they misunderstand.
Pay attention to the step they skip entirely.
And instead of treating that moment like proof that they failed, treat it like useful information about what you forgot to explain.
That doesn’t mean you need to painstakingly explain every microscopic detail of everything.
It just means remembering that “obvious” usually just means “obvious to you”.
My mom helped me uncover a problem I was too close to see, and now the website will be better because of it.
The next time someone doesn’t understand something you thought you explained clearly, resist the urge to blame them.
Take one step back and ask:
“What did I know that they didn’t?”
P.S. If your own website isn’t communicating what feels so obvious inside your head, that’s exactly what we can help with. For the next 24 hours, or until 3 people claim it, you can get a completely custom one-page website, live in 7 days, for $1,000.
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- Kody
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