This week, JD and I will be making the trip up to Michigan to visit his family. They used to live in NC, but moved back to Michigan (where JD grew up) 2 summers ago because his dad got a new job. They’ve visited us twice since the move (last year for the holidays and over the summer for his academy graduation), but we haven’t had a chance to visit them yet, so it’s a long overdue trip.
While there, JD has big plans to take me skiing. He used to go all the time growing up, but I’ve never been. Honestly, my interest in skiing is more along the lines of sitting in the ski lodge by the fire sipping hot chocolate and watching the snow…. Not so much flying down a mountain at dangerous speeds, but I don’t think JD will let me get away with that.
Not only does skiing not interest me, but I’m nervous about JD trying to teach me to ski. We don’t work well together. At all. I love him very much; he’s a great husband and everything, but we have very different working styles (I’m work then play; he’s play, play some more, then maybe work) and very different learning styles (I take things slow and master things one step at a time; he throws himself in head first, sometimes quite literally). If we try to work together on a house project or he tries to teach me something new, we inevitably fight. He thinks I’m a slave driver; I think he expects too much, too fast.
For this reason, I can already picture the disaster that will be skiing. I will go out reluctantly with him, because it’s something he loves and wants to share with me. He will assume that I’ll master it quickly and be ready for the most difficult slope by the end of the morning. Instead, I will grow increasingly frustrated when I’m unable to remain standing up on my skiis, and he will grow increasingly frustrated, assuming that it’s my mental state and not my physical ability that’s holding me (and himself) back from a blissful day of gliding down the slopes.
I hope the day is more fun than I’m envisioning. Mostly, I hope no one ends up in the ER.