The plan was to wake up early and get a head start.
I made a face as if to say, "Oh that is going to happen."
In which French Husband reacted, "Don't you want to go?"
"Not really..." and then I saw my family looking at me like I was a party pooper.
I am a party pooper when it comes to snow that is.
My family skis, up high, fast with no fear. I rather sit by the fire or wait for the snow to melt then risk sore muscles and frost bite.
"Okay I'll go." I gave in to my family's desire and not my own. Though inside I wished I did not have to go. I wished they, my family wouldn't look so disappointingly at me. Ugh. I resigned and mentally started making a list: Long underwear, a hat, gloves...
Our family is not known for getting up early, rather we are known for going to bed too late.
Last night was not an exception.
This morning French Husband woke up looking rather pasty and funny. I looked at him closely, and couldn't decide if it was his beard or the bushy hair or something else taking away his good looks. I asked him if he was okay? And he said, "We are going are you ready?"
So while I rushed around getting ready I felt something in the air that made me think my desire not to go was being answered...
Chelsea, My Mother in Law, Sacha and his Girlfriend Célia asked me at different times where French Husband was. I didn't know but I assume either, outside, inside or upstairs.
Nobody knew and assumed he was getting the car or something.
Until I went into the bedroom and saw a lump in the bed.
French Husband has the flu.
And sadly the first thing I thought of was, "YAHOO we aren't going skiing!" And my second thought was equally tall telling, "OH God I don't want to get his bug!!"
I am so bad,
and happy we aren't going skiing, not today that is.