Sometimes people just need a break from each other – not saying that these people are grumpy or need an attitude adjustment or anything – just saying that there are times in a relationship that certain individuals need a little breather from each other’s less than endearing habits.
Hiking in our local Redwoods is something that I find exhilarating and absolutely spiritual and a perfect anecdote to a loved-one’s quirky habits. The beauty and grandeur of these lofty denizens is something that one has to personally experience themselves to truly appreciate their majestic presence. There are times, when in their presence, I feel the overwhelming need to hug one; so, I do – often at the embarrassment of my hiking companions.
Persuading the Princess to forego the morning paper and instead head-out into our local hills for a short hike on the weekend, most often requires an act of God; and even then, He or She doesn’t always inspire her Royal Highness to spend a Sunday morning away from savoring a cup of freshly-brewed coffee and the funnies.
But the Almighty doesn’t know how to whine.
I, however, am the Queen of Whiners and really needed to hug a Redwood that Sunday.
So, I finally convinced her highness that a hike into Wunderlick, one of our local parks, would be just the thing for our relationship.
We’re quietly walking up the oak and madrone-lined hillside, totally absorbed in the solitude and ambiance of the mountains, looking for the beneficiary of my hug; when the Princess interrupted my reverie and said, “Ya know, Hun, I didn’t get a chance to have my morning cup of coffee.”
“Yes,” I patiently answered. “I’m well aware of this fact and very appreciative that you decided to come with me. Isn’t this just a glorious Sunday morning?”
“Un-Hun,” she mumbled and continued to hike in silence, until once again she broke my spiritual connection with my beloved Redwoods and snapped, “Ya know, Lucie, I didn’t get a chance to eat any breakfast this morning, either!”
“Is that so?” I responded. “I grabbed a breakfast bar for myself before we left. Did you bring one with you this morning?”
“No,” she hastily answered. “We only have Kind bars and I don’t consider them to be breakfast.”
“OK,” I mumbled between clenched teeth. “Can your highness maybe give me 10 more minutes of hiking? Just 10 more minutes, please?” I asked.
The Princess, rolling her eyes, answered, “Fine. Guess 10 minutes ain’t gonna kill me.”
We walked-on when Miss Grumpy Cat (a.k.a. the Princess), miraculously became little Miss Merry Sunshine and chirped, “I keep tellin’ ya, Hun, we gotta get out and hike more often. Look at how beautiful it is here, Sweetheart! It’s right where we live, for Pete’s sake. We have no excuse for not getting out more,” she continued, as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.
I, Ms. Sweetheart herself, stopped dead in my tracks, eye-balled the endearing Minion-being and squeaked, “Seriously?! Seriously?! You tell me that we need to get out and hike more, and this is from a woman who I had to get on hands and knees and beg to leave her funnies behind this morning?”
I then took-in the deepest of cleansing breaths, and said, “You’re right, Hun. You’re absolutely right.”
By that point, the Princess had acquired the cheesiest of Cheshire grins and declared, “Guess both of us are a little hungry this morning, eh, Hun? I’m thinking maybe a certain tree hugger needs to munch on her Kind bar, before she gets her knickers in a knot.”
I think, People, this tree-hugging, knicker-knotting, hungry-hiker needed more than a Kind bar. Maybe a little vacation from a certain, red-headed Minion was in order. What do you think?
Until the next adventure, keep a Kind bar in your backpack and your hiking britches un-twisted, and I’ll catch ya the next time, looking at life from my shoes.