Marital Advice Worth Heeding

When we went to our friends' wedding in April, the groom's dad gave his son some sagacious advice. "Remember these words," Uncle Brock advised, "they will help you out, I promise. 'You might have been right.'" It seemed somewhat amusing at the time. Little did I know that (1) my husband was paying attention and (2) it would actually melt some hostility, namely mine.

Picture the Mann clan hiking the Spattercones Trail in the middle of the day with no hats, no sunblock, no map, and no water.

"It's only two miles!" said Jake, rolling his eyes at me as I tried to extract the CamelBaks from the back of the packed vehicle and fill them up with water in the parking lot. Fine. Off we went sans water. Less than 1/2 a mile in, I think Jake realized just how hot and exposed the trail really was. He decided to shorten the time by running. Yes, running. So, now we're running up a mountain with no sunblock, no hats, no map, and no water.

As the temperature climbed with the sun reflecting off the lava rocks, my ire rose and my blood began to boil. The only thing that made me duck into a lava tunnel with them was that my hair was absorbing sunlight and cooking my brain. At least that's what it felt like. As soon as I cooled off, slightly, I stomped away again, trying to get off that mountain as fast as possible.

Back at the car, with the air-conditioner blasting and everyone gulping down water, Jake admitted, "You might have been right. I'm sorry."

Seven words. That's it. Maybe it won't work for all women, but it certainly made me laugh. I know that Brock got a chuckle out of the story when we told him, too.