Lesson 17: Wait Ten Days

There are a few bad things, okay, a lot of bad things, about a fishing trip in Canada with your boy toy's fam:

1.) Fish.

2.) Worms.

3.) Rain.

4.) Bugs.

5.) Peeing on an island, in the woods.

6.) Or off the side of a boat.

7.) Pooping on an island, in the woods.

8.) Sharing a room with your hubbs and thirteen-year-old sister-in-law.

9.) No phones.

10.) No TV.

11.) No sex for ten days.


There are a few good things about a fishing trip in Canada:

1.) Lots of time to read.

2.) Lots of time to write.

3.) Sunshine.

4.) Beautiful scenery.

5.) Pine-fresh air.

6.) Pooping on an island, in the woods.

7.) No phones.

8.) No TV.

9.) No sex for ten days.


Let's explore the bad:

1.) Fish.

Give me the willies. Luckily, Nathan had agreed to handle any fish I caught before we arrived.

2.) Worms.

Also give me the willies. Nathan had also agreed to handle my worms. He also recanted and got...quite bothered that I couldn't handle a disgusting, still-moves-when-you-tear-it-in-half worm. Being the clever girl I am, I therefore utilized your everyday needle-nosed pliers to hook "squirms," as I dubbed them, eliminating any worm-girl contact.

3.) Rain.

Typically do not mind. In fact, quite enjoy a silver, hazy day, provided I'm indoors with a cup of safari spice tea and cozy blanket. Not so much in 50 degrees. On a dingy. In camouflage rain gear. All day. For two and a half days.

4.) Bugs.

Surprisingly don't give me to willies. Just huge, itchy, red welts instead. One day, my mother-in-law and I decided to be "good" on vacation and go for a walk. I geared up, well aware of how many bugs call the Canadian woods home, in long black spandex and a long-sleeved T-shirt. My braver mother-in-law sported just shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt. As we walked and talked for forty minutes, I stopped three or four times to swat bugs away from my calves and hamstrings. By the time we got back to the cabin, my legs swelled with at least forty bug bites. Like nothing you've ever seen. None of Nathan's family, all old Canadian fishing trip vets, could believe it. Determined not to be relentlessly teased regarding my city-girl rep, I complained a bit, but kept saying, "It could be worse. I'll survive..." as my legs burned. The worst part was that my mother-in-law had like two bites!

5.) Peeing on an island, in the woods.

Really not that bad unless:

a. You get bug bites on your butt.

b. You slip on muddy, mossy rocks and get mud all over your already soaked pants.

c. You realize that your in-laws have hunted bears on these very islands.

6.) Peeing off the side of a boat.

More appealing than #5. Must be extremely comfortable with other boat passengers.

7.) Pooping on an island, in the woods.

Less appealing than #5 or #6. Particularly if you haven't crapped in five days and run out of TP while wiping.

8.) Sharing a room with your hubbs and thirteen-year-old sister-in-law.

Now, don't get me wrong. A free trip is a free trip. However, a twelve-year age gap can be awkward, particularly when your husband thinks it's okay to grab your boob while spooning under the sheets in your double bed, with your sis-in-law on the top bunk across from us. And, not really appropriate to strip and saunter as one would at home.

9.) No phones.

Almost no phones. Had my cell that worked intermittently. Virtually no contact with friends, family, work, etc.

10.) No TV.

No Oprah. No Dr. Phil. No soaps. No fun.

11.) No sex for ten days.

Ten days! The longest I've ever gone since swiping my V-card is...four weeks, max. Longest I've ever gone since meeting Nathan is...two weeks, max, due to long distance. Longest I've ever gone since marrying Nathan is...six days, max, due to his unfortunate dislike for Aunt Flo. Ten days proved especially difficult, gazing at tanned hubbs all day while on the dingy.


On the other hand, let's explore the good:

1.) Lots of time to read.

So, my in-laws seemed amazed by my apparent speed-reading skills. I finished four and a half books on our trip. One philosophical. One trashy. One story. One scientific. Half a romance.

2.) Lots of time to write.

Finished two lessons of this cute little blog.

3.) Sunshine.

After two and a half days of rain, the sun re-emerged and fueled three bright days with just enough fluffy while cool clouds.

4.) Beautiful scenery.

Crystal water. Lush trees. Bear cub (from a distance). Moose (from a distance). All that Canadian stuff. Post card stuff.

5.) Pine fresh air.

No exhaust fumes. No factory fumes. Just better than Pinesol pine-fresh air that felt cleansing to breathe.

6.) Pooping on an island, in the woods.

Evidently, this fosters true love. Yes, it's true. I had a huge load to drop. Nathan, an experienced woods pooper, offered me some advice: find a log, sit with your bum hanging over the back, work quickly, clean up, call it good. I decided that sitting on a log was gross. So I popped a squat and hung onto a tree for support. Handled my business, and by business, I mean poopin'. Started to "tidy up" and quickly realized that my two or three poop paper portion would not suffice and had a conundrum -- couldn't pull my pants up for obvious reasons, yet didn't want my hubbs to view me hovering over my pile of terds. So I took our relationship to a whole new level. Hobbled down the hill, pants around my ankles, trying to stay somewhat squatted for obvious reasons, and barked, "I need more toilet paper," avoiding eye contact at all costs. "Didn't you bring any?" he asked. "Yes! But I ran out," I barked again, as if he asked the stupidest question of all time. With a giggly grin and head shake, he searched my camo rain gear pockets for what remained of the extra roll. Tossed it to me. Hobbled back up to my make-shift john. Still wasn't much TP, but got the job done. And my heart a-twitter.

7.) No phones.

No friends. No family. No work. No interruptions. No problem.

8.) No TV.

No Oprah. No Dr. Phil. No soaps. Just makes you appreciate it even more when you get home. Distance makes the heart grow finder, you know how it goes.

9.) No sex for ten days.

Ten days. Ten days you have to wait. Ten days you can barely touch each other. Ten days for your mind to play out fantasies while sitting on a stupid boat. Ten days to study him and list all the reasons you find him adorably sexy while sitting on a stupid boat. Ten days for those tingles to marinate. TEN DAYS. But, like Oprah, such a lapse just makes you appreciate it even more when you get home. And unload the truck. Have a shower. Together. Followed by squeaky clean, down and dirty, good old fashioned humpin'.

But the best part of the trip wasn't even the wait ten days sex when we got home. The best part happened on one of the last days of the trip. For those of you who have never been on a bona-fide fishing trip, there's a bit of a hassle involved in the boat launch, if you ask me. Him backing the truck and trailer onto the launching pad. Me taking over the driver's seat while he hops out and into the boat. Him undoing the trailer straps. Him giving me the signal (a waving hand) to let off the brake slowly and another (a raised fist) to quickly brake, thus ejecting the boat from the trailer/launch. Him driving beside the dock and typically me then parking the truck and trailer and returning to the boat on foot to begin fishing. (WHEW!)

But on one occasion, after docking, I took over as captain while Nathan parked the truck and trailer. I just held onto the dock awaiting his return and hoping I wouldn't lose my grip and float away and, being motor-operating challenged, have to paddle back. As he walked from parking to pier, I noted an exchange between him and his mom, who awaited her own launch. Nathan walked toward the S.S. Omick, piled in, and as we scooted along, he casually and a bit bashfully said he just told his mom something nice about me. I pleaded for details. He hesitated. I begged. He dished. Went like this:

Ruggedly cute pig-tailed hat-wearing city-girl, aka the skipper, awaited upon the S.S. Omick for the captain. Mother-in-law admired girl from shore and felt happy for ruggedly cute son.

Mother-in-law: You've got a good girl there.

Nathan: Yep. There's not too many guys who are 100% sure they married the right girl.

And he twinkled. Internationally to boot.