It’ll be fun, she said…

Famous last words. It’ll be fun, she said… At least our adventure today brought us good laughs.

I’m glad I didn’t wait until Friday to try and get groceries – the shelves in stores look like they do when coastal residents are preparing to ride out a hurricane. I remember those days from when I lived in south Louisiana. Up here it’s the snow storms (or worse, ice storms) that lead to the same shopping frenzies.

Well, so far the snowfall amount has been underwhelming for the amount of hype. But more is coming, and my assessment might be different tomorrow morning. If it weren’t so cold, this snow would be a lot more fun. We have sleds we could haul out and play on.

We joke about how at our age our minds come up with all kinds of bright ideas that seem feasible, but after getting out there to actually do the thing results in questioning our sanity. Sledding right now would be one such sort of thing. Another one of those ‘it’ll be fun, she said’ sort of things.

Another great idea that sounded better in my head than it turned out in real life… hey, do you want to take a quick trip down to Kings River so I can get a wintertime photo for a future painting? No problem, he said, let’s do it. It’ll be fun, she said.

So we geared up in our snow suits, scarves, mittens, alpaca socks, boots. Took the canvas tarp off of the 4-wheeler to take it down to the shop where the side x side was resting comfortably and snow-free inside the shop.

I started getting the feeling this might not actually be such a fun thing to do before we reached the shop, though. My feet were already getting cold. But I didn’t want to be the one to call and end to our ‘fun’ before we’d even gotten out of the gate. So I kept my misgivings to myself.

I looked at Rob and could see his pinched lip expression of not-really-having-fun and got the first glimmer of hope that maybe I would be able to back out of this adventure and save face.

When he started clinching and unclenching his hands at the shop, my optimism about that expanded a little more. But he’s a trooper, it would take more discomfort than a little cold. He said we needed to go back up to the house to get his baclava to cover his face. Okay, I said.

The snow had started falling again by now and I observed him blinking furiously as the frozen flakes hit his eyeballs. So he went inside to get the added face protection and got back to the side x side. We headed down the driveway.

Halfway to the gate we stopped so he could flex his fingers again. My glimmer of hope kindled anew. Are you cold, I asked? A little, he said. I took off my mittens so I could take a photo. I said, let’s just go to the gate and decide then if we should keep going. Okay, he said. So the seed had been planted, and I hoped it would take root. There would be no more encouragement from me with any of that ‘it’ll be fun, she said’ attitude.

We kept going and the gate was in sight. My feet by now were numb. His eyeballs had to be hurting, and his hands too. So I finally said I didn’t think this was a good idea. He agreed and wondered if I wanted to go see if I could get a picture of Henrietta, the screech owl by the gate. We weren’t *quite* to the gate yet.

I looked at him as he clenched and unclenched his hands again. Waited a few seconds. He looked at me and I could see the hope in his eyes. I said, no, I think I’m good. Before I had all of the words out he was already turning around to head back for the house.

And when we got there, at the table over hot coffee, we laughed at the whole ‘it’ll be fun, she said’ incident. No. It was not a successful attempt to do the thing my mind assured me would be fun. But the laugh at our willingness to try and fail was funny and fun.

Here’s the one photo I took:

Have any ‘It’ll be fun, she said’ sort of experiences to share?

It does always seem to be me coming up with the bright ideas for fun that turn out to not be fun at all. I hope I’m not the only one out there!