Directly Incorrect

(My mom, me, and some friends are on holiday in Brittany. We rent a little house which we had lived in the previous year. My mom decides we should walk to the beach the first day and chooses the direct path. We have to climb a fence, wade through pretty thick and smelly mud and cross a cow paddock on the way. Our dog is enjoying herself immensely, but she is the only one.)

Mom: “I don’t understand. This must be the way to the beach. We took the same path last year.”

Me: “I know, Mom. It was the wrong path then, too…”