It must be a boy thing.
Cause running around in the rain on a muddy field and having 14 guys jump on top of me and grind me into the dirt just because I caught a ball really isn't my thing. But it apparently appeals to my other half.
Yes, that's right, my husband has a little thing for a sport named rugby. I will never understand the reason why, but aside from the injuries and the whining about being unable to walk for a week after playing, he seems to enjoy it. I feel like I should be letting out a little "Tim The Tool Man" Taylor grunt on his behalf right now.
In fact, he loves it so much that I was a single gal on Valentine's Day this year as he spent 4 days in Las Vegas with our teenager for the USA Sevens. Yes, I'm still milking that one for all it's worth.