It's no secret that a friend is someone who lets you help .
There's a certain irony at play here. I love to help, but hate being helped.
I'd been looking forward to staying with Niamh and Andrew, but soon after stepping off the plane I realised my weekend away was going to be difficult for me.
You see - They were the perfect hosts.
They let me sleep in, they took me fishing. In the evening before the sun set Niamh and I would take Jed for a walk, throwing his ball; laughing as he bounded down the bush and scrub with a mix of dogged determination and lack of self preservation.
I even got to do real guy stuff with Andrew when we rebuilt his KTM's water pump (twice).
They cooked, made pizzas, muffins, and margaritas. They wouldn't let me do a.god.damn.thing.
It was cruel and unusual punishment.
I may have shared my stash with Jed in a fit of desperation.
Well - I felt better afterward :)