Not only is my husband significantly bigger and stronger than I am, but he's also much harder working, and more serious of purpose.
For starters, he can do things like carry an entire couch up the stairs all by himself. While I struggle with half a bureau.
So there's that.
Plus, he's better at seeing things through. I'll start a project all kinds of enthusiastic. And then I'll get bored, and move on to something newer and more interesting. Until that gets tedious.
He starts, sweats through, and finishes.
So I want to make it clear: I'm very impressed with my husband for his strength, his abilities, his character, and about a zillion other things. Very.
But he's one hell of a slow walker.
The problem, as far as I can tell, is that he's an ambler. He's one of those amblish people I wind up stuck behind and want to stab on my walk to work.
Because when I walk, I walk fast. I mean fastfast. I want the exercise. I hate the stroll. And I am short, and so my legs have to move extra to walk that fast.
Strangers on the street have expressed surprise at my speed.
But now, now Nick and I are walking to work together. I agreed to when he agreed to speed up.
And he has, but still in my head I am all, Christ, man, your legs are twice as long as mine! How am I faster than you?
At first I thought maybe it was his sheer bulk that slowed him down. But then I thought, you know, hippos are huge, and yet really fast and can turn on a dime.
Not, I assure you, that I have ever compared you to a hippo, sweetheart.
But what I've realized is it's more of a personality thing than a size thing.
Nick notices all these architectural details on buildings we walk by. He pays attention to what's around him. He likes to enjoy the sunshine.
I haven't actually seen him stop and smell the roses, but he's a stop and smell the roser.
Whereas I am all, yes, yes, nice building, pretty sunshine. Hurry it up! Fuck the roses!