I ADORE cottages in the winter. Where the snow is knee-deep and untouched, your cheeks get all rosy within just minutes of being outside and you get to suit up in snow pants and go sledding just like you did when you were a kid... it's awesome.
And being up there brings out the kid in hubby, too.
Which is why hubster found himself romping towards our friend's dog, singing a cute little ditty to the young pup, while I stood watching with a goofy grin on my face. (I'm telling you - we're KIDS).
(Before I continue, allow me to set the scene for a moment... Imagine if you will: Lots of snow. A frozen lake*. Hubster, myself and my friend standing on said lake while our friend put together some twigs and brush for a lovely outdoor campfire.) Scene is set.
I turned my back for a minute just as I heard hubster abruptly stop singing, followed by the unmistakable "shloop" (yes, that sound is unmistakable) of slush and water. When I turned around, I saw hubby down - one leg completely submerged in the lake, the other leg awkwardly bent and hands gripping to the ice for dear life.
Now, at this moment, most concerned wives would at the very least yell out helpful phrases like "Don't struggle!" or "Let me find a long stick for you to grab onto!" I, on the other hand, kind of laughed and watched hubby pull his sopping leg out of the broken ice and water, while immediately rushing to stand where I thought the dock was beneath all the snow.
He knows I love him. It's okay.
Anyway, hubby then hustled off to the cabin to warm his leg, while the rest of us decided to STOP making a fire on the frozen** lake and headed back to solid land.
We laughed about the incident... even talked about how much scarier it could have been. And then we realized that even falling into a lake in the dead of winter? Can't stop us from soaking up the cottage life. (No pun intended).
What hubster thinks of me and my laughter upon his falling into the lake.
**Again... NOT frozen.