You may or may not remember that I started working out in January. It's going great! Thanks for asking. I've recently joined Weight Watchers, and I have lost 6 pounds on it in the last two weeks. Not to mention that my P90X-Insanity hybrid workout is putting a hurtin' on me. I'm usually pretty damned tired when I am done.
My kids have been pretty oblivious to the whole thing. I work out when they are in school and generally don't bother them with the details of my workout. I don't always need the brutal honesty that comes from the mouth of babes. Apparently I get it whether I wanted it or not.
Yesterday Bear comes home from school and we are sitting at the desk chit-chatting. He is telling me about his "boring" day at school, and I'm cracking smart ass comments about his Handout Queen teacher. Sounds like a little bonding? Nice pleasant conversation? Sweet.
All of sudden he turns and grabs my "love handles" and starts pinching and twisting. The cutesy conversation took a detour that I didn't see coming. It was downhill from there. The rest went something like this:
"Can you feel that?"
"Umm yea I can feel it, but it doesn't hurt."
He starts doing it harder.
"Dude. What the hell? Are you trying to hurt me?"
"It's blubber Mom. Blubber. Blubber. Blubber"
"I bet you could stop a bullet with this blubber."
"Your ass better hope I don't have to today you little shit!"
Really? Same kid who this morning wanted to make sure I got Ms. Jill to help me make his birthday cupcakes for Friday.
"I think I can handle 25 cupcakes, Bear."
"Ms. Jill makes good cupcakes."
Great. Epic fail at losing weight. Epic epic fail at making cupcakes.
I think I'm going to start rationing his words for the day.
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