Cliché, Anyone?

I'm Swedish. Turns out I like nature. Big time. Turns out I go into the woods and become one with the pines. Turns out I like to forage for mushrooms. Like, really like. Turns out I make my kids walk and walk and walk, while they whine and cry and whine, just to make it to the perfect place where the trees open onto the lake and there's a fireplace waiting to be used and the sun sets (well, not really, this is August, not November) on the water. I'm a walking, living cliché. Or just middleaged.