Let's take today as an example. Today we had a lovely day. I started with some work. It was productive, I was creative and I got good feedback. I spent some time refining a new business idea and getting pretty excited. We headed off to see Di's bestie, who we haven't seen for ages.
We stopped for a cheeky McDonalds on the way. We walked their beautiful new puppy, spent time catching up, visited the park and left in high spirits. On the way home we stopped in an outdoors shop and headed back towards home. since it was getting on we decided to find somewhere for dinner.
So with excitement and a small amount of trepidation we set off on our journey. Me gradually getting used to the punt. Actually, let me justify that... To say I gradually got used to the punt is probably an overstatement of the truth. I'd love to say I took to this like a duck to water (aside from the obvious wet bottom connotations), but I fear it wouldn't be fair. I suffered slightly to start with. Every time I thought I was getting it, I'd pick the stick up, put it back in and go the wrong way. to correct I'd shift my feet imperceptibly, at which point my wife would panic (trust issues), sit bolt upright and stick her arms out. This would destabilise the punt slightly, I'd shift my feet imperceptibly and the cycle would start again.
We got used to this, we sat back, punted along, corrected the bad driving and enjoyed the sun. We laughed. As we turned back we even shared a joke with Zach (5) about how he didn't need a wee after all... Or did he?
As we came back under the bridge Zach was clearly agitated. Di briefly suggested he pee over the side, but somehow we couldn't make that right in our heads. My driving had failed to improve. I'd make excellent progress towards a potential toilet stop, before the punt would turn sideways and we'd head off in other direction. Zach jiggled more, my driving got worse, Joni made nervous noises and Di looked generally worried.
Then the inevitable happened...
We turned (correctly) right...
There was some jiggling in the boat...
Joni made a nervous noise...
The boat wobbled slightly as it settled back on a course...
Zach leant forward and Di made a small, almost imperceptible, whimper...
I chirped a reassuring "We'll be back soon."
Di responded with a resigned sigh "It's too late!"
And that was it. Di and Zach were sharing a plastic seat. A plastic seat which was now covered in wee. My punt driving was not improved by the shifting and chaos. The punt turned in completely the wrong direction.
Eventually we gave up on the stick. I sat, used the "emergency" oar and made good calm progress. We made it back to the base, and half apologised to the guy for giving up on the stick. I paid him, trying desperately to make small talk and avoid Joni's constant insistence that we really should tell hum Zach had done a wee! We walked in silence towards the car, stopped for another wee (seriously I don't know where he puts it!) and said nothing.
Once we made it to the car we did of course tell Zach it wasn't a problem. We shared a brief, nervous, laugh and acknowledged that at some stage we would laugh about it. I updated Facebook, by way of a warning to others, to ensure they new the dangers of giving in to such whims.
And now returns my good friend romance. You see romance ensures that in the not too distant future the scars of chaotic navigation, tired legs, heavy arms, wobbly boat panic and wee soaked jeans will fade. Romance will ensure that at some point in the future we'll remember only the smiles in the picture below. Romance means we'll remember only the calm water, warm breeze and distant clink of glasses.
Romance means that one day we'll finish a drink, stroll along the river and say "Let's get a punt along the river?". If I'm honest that is the reason I truly love romance!
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