It has to be said, I'm not really the outdoorsy kinda girl. I love landscapes, I love places with lots of rocks and water and trees, and I don't mind exploring them from time to time. So when the other half suggested we take a long walk through some public footpaths in the fields on the outskirts of town, I agreed.
It wasn't until we were well on our way that I discovered the fatal ingredient I had neglected to consider: mud. I don't get along with mud. We are never friends. And yet, today, I got my shoes completely coated and a good chunk of my jeans caked in the stuff.
So yeah, I was a bit miserable. And quite grumpy. And even more grumpy when the boyfriend told me the next part of the journey should be "less muddy", and it ended up being even more muddy than the previous section. And what did he do? He laughed. He found it absolutely hysterical how grumpy I was getting about the mud.
Now, I can live with that. I laughed at one point when he took a step and his leg disappeared in the mud up over his boot, and he then struggled when the same happened to the other foot and he couldn't get them out for a minute. This doesn't really make us even, but it does remind me that me laughing at him was not so different from him laughing at me. And I still love him, despite his clear amusement at my grumpiness.
But I sure as hell am not going on another public footpath exploration jaunt with him in the near future...
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