Heading my way...
In 1996, we moved to Minnesota. My wife had never been there, and I'd only ever driven through it once as a kid. Sounded like a good adventure.
We drove two cars and had a system where if my wife needed to stop, she'd just pass me and get off at the next exit.
We arrived in Minneapolis the afternoon of June 10th, and it was snowing. Snowing. June 10th.
About 15 minutes from the hotel, suddenly my wife zoomed by and shot to the exit, and it was all I could do to react fast enough to follow her.
She'd pulled into the parking lot of a filling station and jumped out of the car in a rush, and I thought there surely must be something terribly wrong.
I quickly pulled in beside her and hopped out, urgently asking, "What's wrong?! What's happened?!"
"It's snowing! I can't believe you moved us somewhere where it snows in June! It's f**k**g snowing!" - then she jumped back in the car and tore off.
I'd known her eight years at that point, and that was the first time I ever heard her drop the f-word.