I married an older man. I’m OK with that – except when it bores me. Let me explain.

Yesterday’s temple hopping brought us to a stupa where Buddha washing was going on. We’d heard about this phenomenon before. If you know the day of the week you’re born, you find the statue dedicated to that day. You pour one cup of water on that Buddha’s head for each year you’ve lived, followed by an extra one for a long life.

I don’t know what day of the week I’m born on (Mom, feel free to comment on that one), but Martin did, so he started pouring. And he poured. And he poured. And…seriously?

Well, apparently the love of my life can’t count, pour water and talk at the same time. All he could do was nod his head, while deep in concentration and continue pouring water.

We left twenty five minutes and a very clean Buddha later.