You have no compassion for my poor nerves

While rowing through the jungle, we spotted a British couple and their guide entering a canoe. The wife was mid-thirty ish, had good teeth. The husband was a bit older and balding. We were surprised to see as they climbed into their boat that the husband was frightened about the whole ordeal and when he finally fell over himself enough to make it to his seat, he sat there stiffly, knuckles white as he grasped the canoe sides.

Mama whispered, “Look at him! He is so wimpy. Why do you think he even came to the jungle?”

And then, adding emphasis to her statement, we saw him pull out a cross stitch from his bag and begin sewing.

Of course, we began giggling and took some stealth photos.

We finally were able to compose ourselves again until mama said, “Well, it probably helps in 'calming his nerves.'”