My body hurts, folks. For years, I have been threatening to let Daddy Booboo train me, since he’s a fitness maestro and whatnot. He recently took me up on it by issuing me a challenge. Now, when we take Sumbaby to the park on the weekends, he’s been giving me exercises to do while the kiddo runs wild with other muchkins in the park.
There are just a few problems:
1) I keep forgetting that I’m “training” so every time we get to the park, I start looking for a bench to relax and he’s like “Come here. Do this twenty times and then repeat on the other side.”
2) This past weekend, he had me do some thigh disintegrating workout (that he said was not even all that intense) that left my thighs in shock. Seriously, if they’d had faces, their eyes would have been bugged out and their mouths hanging open all the next day like “What. The. Hell. Just. Happened?!”
3) For the last couple days, I’ve been hobbling around like I thigh mastered a firecracker. Which is funny and all except that I’m also realizing how often Sumbaby jumps on, bumps into, climbs across, hangs off and generally abuses my legs- it’s a LOT, folks. A really really lot.
4) At one point during this workout, I suggested that stopping might be a good idea but then Daddy Booboo said, “Your butt looks really good doing that exercise.” and I was like “Was that 15 more you said? RAWR!” (I guess motivational manipulation does work.)
And then, when I complained about my post workout aches, his response was simply to laugh and say, “You gotta do it more, then. It won’t hurt so much next time.”
Next time?!
