A Walk and an Apology

A story from the winter just gone:

Mum and I decided to take the dogs for a walk together. So we headed out optimistically, and enjoying each other's company. Thankfully the story involves no change in this happy state.

We headed along the Canal and hopped (not on one leg, we really climbed, but if I say hopped we sound more agile; please don't sue for false advertising) over one of the stiles back into a field to start heading back. We walked easily for a time and continued our lovely chat. Then it happened. That horrible feeling very rarely felt, and all the more terrifying for its rarety.

We suddenly sank. I mean suddenly. It wasn't as if we stood there going,

"Oh, I'm sinking!"

We stood there going, "Oh, I've sunk!"

This is a perfect advertisement for wellies.

Anyway, we felt the mud wouldn't last long and we trudged (no use of hyperbole there) through, so deep was the mud that it didn't even squelch. Mum seemed to be quite successful in her attempts to use the turf above the surface of the leg gripping stuff. I tried the same, except when I did it the turf simply sank into the mud and my foot swiftly followed. Hence Mum got across relatively quickly and I was stood, a mixture of laughter and fear combining to cause my cries of "Help me Mum!" Mum being the brilliant (look in a thesaurus at brilliant, you'll see all the words she is, I told her so the other day and she made me find a thesaurus and read them to her, funnily enough modest wasn't included (she is modest really, she'll be annoyed I told you that)) lady she is braved almost certain sinking in order to save her entirely stuck and almost completely horizontal son. Together we worked our way out, incredulous at the dogs, who appeared to be on solid ground.

I think you had to be there.

Hopefully this post is better than yesterday's. Since I started my blog these things no longer seem to happen. I do apologise.