One thing I love about Tim and alternately drives me insane, is his deep love for turtles.
He is constantly coming home to tell me about the small miracle he wrought that day- mainly about a turtle that he saw in the road that he stopped to rescue.
Yes. My husband frequently pulls the car over on the twisty road we live on to get out, grab a turtle that may or may not try to bite his finger off and move it to the other side of the road.
Sunday we were headed out to lunch. We had very limited time, since we were doing a charity walk at 2pm. I spot a small round spot of something on the road, right on the double yellow line. Tim sees it about the same time and immediately tenses and starts to slow. Then he looks at me and says:
"That was a turtle back there."
- I know, honey.
*The car starts to slow down as if of it's own accord. He appears to be raging an internal battle.*
"Can I go back to help it?"
- Sure, I figured you would anyway.
"I just hate seeing them smushed on the road."
- I know you do.
"They are just so pitiful."
*Quick and vaguely unsafe u-turn*
*Tim arrives at the scene of the turtle, pulls over, gets out, shuts the door and picks up his new friend. Mumbles something unintelligible to it, climbs the bank on the other side of the road (the side the turtle was facing) and places it in to the woods. Gets back in the car and does another vaguely unsafe u-turn."
"The little devil hissed at me!"
*moment of reflection on the attitudes of turtles-being-rescued.*
"It makes me feel good though."