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Me:Please don’t. Your autocorrect fails are usually the highlight of my day.
My Girl:So glad I can be of service.
Me:I’ll tell you how you can service me…
My Girl:Service me, I service you.
Me:Tonight?
My Girl:Please yessssssssssss!!
Me:So I’m not the only one horny as duck?
My Girl:LOL — well I don’t know how horny ducks are but sure…
Me:Dammit!
I assume she’s gone as I wait for another text. Then I hear the familiar ping of my cell.
My Girl:So the v-e-g-e-t-a-b-l-e-s?
Me:Hahahaha, funny girl. How long did it take you to type that out? Yeah. I can grab some on my way home before we head over to the field.
My Girl:A long damn time and thanks, babe. I love you. Tonight xxxxxxxxxxxxx
My Girl: In case you misunderstood that, that was me raining kisses down on you.
Me:***strips in anticipation***
And just like that, we’re back to ourselves. Well, almost. As long as we can keep the extra bodies out of our bed and actually stay awake long enough to do something about it.
Chapter Five
Tess
“Oh my gosh, I’m gonna throw up.” I stop talking for a few moments and take a deep breath, choke down a little bile, and spray water from the spout on my water bottle onto my face. “Nope, false alarm. I’m good,” I take a deep breath and blow it out before continuing. “Can I ask a serious question please? Who the hell invented burpees? And wall sits, and knee lifts, and friggin’ mountain climbers? Seriously. What sadistic jerk thought of these workouts? Who thought it was awesome to jump and then fall to a push up then start all over again?” I mumble to Lauren who’s been coming over to my house to work out together for years now.
We used to go to a gym, but when it became clear that neither of us could really do jumping jacks or jump rope without peeing a little, we thought it best to move our workouts to a more private location. Only, just recently, we’ve decided to jump the CrossFit bandwagon but do the half-assed workouts at home rather than torturing ourselves with medicine balls and kettle balls, and heavy weights at the gym. So basically, we’re doing schoolyard workouts, but it makes us feel like we’re at least doing something. Plus, doing it together gives us the motivation to keep going.
I assume Lauren doesn’t want to look like a quitter just as much as I don’t. And it’s more fun. We can laugh together (and at each other) and have girl time. It’s perfect. Or it has the potential to be if we were in yoga pants and drinking wine rather than wearing yoga pants and pretending to work out.
“Someone with a major complex who enjoys watching people puke just trying to get in shape.”
“Clearly. This is ridiculous.” I groan as I roll over onto my back with my arms spread-eagle.
Lauren is next to me, lying prostrate on the ground. She lifts her head, looks my direction, and gags a little bit. Pretty sure she just swallowed her own vomit. No judgement, though, since I fought it off just moments ago. The stupidest part of it all is that we do this crap voluntarily. Voluntarily! But it’s either that, or Grady will give us his own WOD to follow, and I’m absolutely positive that would be worse.
Maybe.
Probably.
Not really sure which would be worse at this point in time.
I stand up on wobbly legs, moaning and groaning like a big baby the entire time. Lauren snickers up at me until she tries it, then she moans and groans the same way.
Back away from the brownies and wine, ladies.
“The most ridiculous part is, now I want to eat. All. The. Food. And I’d probably throw up anything that I put in my mouth, but I’m so damn hungry. Still, anything I want to eat will make everything we just did pointless,” Lauren says. “I just need to get a pair of plaid pregnancy pants and be done with it. Or borrow Monica’s lavender tunic. Then it won’t matter if I work out or not.”
