Explode your head to a thinner you!

As I write this my husband is in the garage jump roping. Or jumping rope. Whichever term you use for the act of holding a rope in both hands, whipping it over your head and jumping over it, that’s what my husband is doing.

Let’s back up, shall we? Don’t worry, we won’t be going far. Just to a few days ago when I was redesigning my blog and Matt was downstairs watching tv. Or so I thought. Turns out he was starting a work out routine.

See, we’re one of those couples who got married, had kids then let ourselves go. We look just dandy with clothes on and we’re not fat but we’ve both been better. In addition to being a little flabby, we’re also lazy. Well, not lazy, we’re just always going going going with the kid raising and house cleaning that there’s no time by the end of the day for fitness.

Or so I thought.

Once again my husband is out to make me look bad. Oh sure I could join him but that would take away from valuable farting around on my website cursing html for not making my family members’ names all centered correctly under the picture time.

It started out as a simple routine of free weights and sit ups. But then today we headed to Target for pull-ups and Bender’s Game (which we are now watching and thoroughly enjoying). Target being Target, Matt and Jonas ditched me and Jaden made a massive dump in her pants. I’ll leave the details to your imagination. When I found Matt again he slipped a jump rope in the cart.

Side note: why is a jump rope sold in a box? And why did the “contents description” state there was a rope, a weighted rope section and two rotating handles leading someone to believe the handles and weighted rope section weren’t attached to the actual rope. They were. But still. So again: What’s with the box?

We made it home without incident for once and got the kids to bed. Matt headed out to the garage to test out his jump rope while I managed to hold off firing up the old lap top long enough to do 50 crunches.

(Take that, Matt. Think you’re going to get all hot and buff and leave me for some Vegas call girl, do ya?)

(I have no idea what that means but I’m not going to be the only flabby one in this marriage.)

After my half-assed crunches and my feeling of the burn, I fired up the old laptop. Then Matt came stumbling in gasping, breathing hard and clutched the dining room chair.

“Honey?” I asked, a little concerned, “Are you ok?”
“My head!” he gasped. “It hurts so bad!” He then moved to the floor where he lay with his eyes closed moaning for advil.

I got him some water and an advil and suggested perhaps he was dehydrated. He shook his head, drank his water and headed back to the garage.
“Maybe you should stop and take it easy?” I suggested.
“No! I must keep going!”

Soon I heard the thwack thwack thwack of the rope smacking against the garage floor.

On the one hand I admire his dedication to achieving Abs of Steel. But on the other, I don’t want my husband’s head to explode. You see my dilemma. Plus there’s the fear that if I follow his exercise routine my head would explode too leaving my children orphaned.

So, in the interest of keeping my children in the caring arms of at least one parent, I’m going to keep with the blogging of exciting events in my life thing.

You’re welcome, readers.

However in the interest of not being the only fatty in my family, I’m going to keep with the stomach crunches thing.

You’re welcome, Matt.


5 Responses

  1. HA! Oh, your poor husband.

    I would think running after J while she’s searching for her giggle goggles would be a great workout!

  2. 40 crunches at night and 40 in the morning… lift your legs in the air to work the yucky lower abs…. I am going to see if waking 45 minutes earlier every morning to do 30 minutes on my eliptical will help…and lets not forget the fact that i will be working an add’l 20-30 hrs per week at my new pt job…blah!

  3. Ok, so now my friends are making me look bad too. Thanks a lot, mytymaker.

  4. not making you look bad..trying to inspire you! at least you dont have to get a pt job 😦

  5. […] My husband is threatening me to get my tush in gear and do some stomach crunches. Me and my big mouth. […]

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