To set the record straight, Rob is as honest as the day is long. He abhors dishonesty with a passion. With that said, there actually are a few times where he...let's say...stretches the truth. Hiking or biking distances are the main culprits of his-- growing Pinocchio nose--little white lies.
Point of contention today. We hiked two very difficult--climbing over boulders, straight up the mountain--six milers this week and I told him I needed a little a break and could we do a mini hike today? "Why, of course we can--Bear Canyon is four miles and will be a relatively easy jaunt today." (Nose is beginning to grow).
Fast forward to the hike--after about an hour of moderate boulder climbing and river crossing the following transaction took place:
Me: Are we there yet? Two miles shouldn't take us this long.
Rob: Didn't I tell you that it was four miles-(mumbling, one way, under his breath)?
Me: No, lambkins, you did not. Actually I didn't use that endearment and certainly won't write what I did say to him. Too harsh on the ears.
Rob: Well it isn't too much longer.
Me: Liar, liar pants on fire--I wanted a short hike and this is not a short hike. And like the dog, all he heard was blah blah blah blah blah.
Rob: (Increased hiking speed to get out of my range of ranting).
The extra four miles earned me a stop at the DQ and a nice thick shake as he tried to make amends for my sore feet. No, I did not pour it over his head but from now on, I am the newly assigned hiker navigator and he is forever banned from saying, "It's only ____ miles" because I am watching him ...and his pointy little nose.
Point of contention today. We hiked two very difficult--climbing over boulders, straight up the mountain--six milers this week and I told him I needed a little a break and could we do a mini hike today? "Why, of course we can--Bear Canyon is four miles and will be a relatively easy jaunt today." (Nose is beginning to grow).
Fast forward to the hike--after about an hour of moderate boulder climbing and river crossing the following transaction took place:
Me: Are we there yet? Two miles shouldn't take us this long.
Rob: Didn't I tell you that it was four miles-(mumbling, one way, under his breath)?
Me: No, lambkins, you did not. Actually I didn't use that endearment and certainly won't write what I did say to him. Too harsh on the ears.
Rob: Well it isn't too much longer.
Me: Liar, liar pants on fire--I wanted a short hike and this is not a short hike. And like the dog, all he heard was blah blah blah blah blah.
Rob: (Increased hiking speed to get out of my range of ranting).
The extra four miles earned me a stop at the DQ and a nice thick shake as he tried to make amends for my sore feet. No, I did not pour it over his head but from now on, I am the newly assigned hiker navigator and he is forever banned from saying, "It's only ____ miles" because I am watching him ...and his pointy little nose.
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| Mr. Pinocchio
Thanks for reading # 153 of 7777.
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Mary, the scenario you describe has played out several times between Cherrie and me, usually involving driving distances. Are there "male-miles" and "female-miles"? We just have to figure out the conversion factor - ha ha! Thanks for writing each day, and I can't wait to see Rob again and check out nose length. Rick Cornish
ReplyDeleteThanks, Rick. I agree about the "male-miles" and "female-miles"--I'll work on the conversion factor!
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