Our First Misunderstanding

Wanna see a dirty picture?

Last year I traded my car in for a Jeep! And I finally got some mud on the tires. My dear lovely man joined me for a trip up a former logging road in the Olympic Mountains of Washington State. From the summit, just above the fog, we couldn't see the valley below. Actually, we couldn't see further than ten feet below our feet. And it began to drizzle. But we couldn't have been happier. It just meant more mud on the tires!

He started the drive back down, the music cranked loud. I poured myself a cup of cold water. Can't imagine how I thought I would drink it on that rough road. The front wheels hit a dip that he didn't see coming. Water from my cup splashed up and all over his face and arm.

He shouted, "Hey, why did you throw water at me?"

"I didn't," I shouted back. Really, that isn't my style at all.

He looked at me, face dripping, pointing at his own chin. "What's this then?"

"What are you saying?" I yelled.

"You just threw water at me!"

"Why would I throw water at you?" I asked.

"I dunno!"

"It's your own fault for driving so fast! Slow down!"

"This isn't fast!"

When we got to the bottom of the mountain, we took a break. I explained that I really didn't chuck the cold water at him but that the water bounced out of the cup when we hit the bump in the road. We still laugh about it.

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