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As the Thighs Burn

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The girls have been at my in-laws attending Vacation Bible School (aka free day camp with Jesus) with their cousins. I’ve missed them, my husband has missed them, and even Jack the dog curled up nightly on the floor by Miss C’s bed.


Still, when your kids head to the grandparents for a few nights and you realize you’ll have the house to yourselves there’s a little bit of Risky Business dancing around the house action that ensues. It’s like you’re seventeen again and your parents announce they’re going out for the night and you’re in charge of the household. In reality, you’re forty and you’re just excited about the prospect of cleaning your five-year-old’s room and tossing the 2.5 million-gumball machine and fast food toys she’s collected over the past six months.


You’re also thinking THANK YOU JESUS I can just make myself coffee in the morning and get myself ready for work and not worry about refereeing the short and sassy people for a few days. You can also eat your five-year-old’s beloved Cheetos, although you must always remember to replace the bag before she returns home.


On a more productive note, one of my must do things this week was to do a little extra working out. I have to burn off those Cheetos!


I dusted off my Shred DVD yesterday and about two minutes into it the sound started cutting off intermittently. Not wanting to lose my momentum (I have fitness ADD and pretty much anything will distract me from exercising … oh look a squirrel on the patio!), I continued to do the workout without stopping the DVD. I’ve done it often enough to hear Jillian Michaels in my sleep. While I’m dreaming of Cheetos.


I got to the first abs segment and the sound came back on just as Jillian was looking intensely into the camera and saying, “You know that pooch you guys get that you don’t dig?” and pointing to one of her cohorts in torture’s ridiculously toned abs.


All I could hear her say was, “You know that pooch you guys get that I will never have MWAA HAA HAA HAA SUCKERS!”


Suddenly it occurred to me that working out to her DVD with the sound muted the entire time was nothing short of brilliant.


Jamie Reeves is a forty-year-old Southern soccer mom who has been pontificating about poop and pinot noir since 2005 at www.BlondeMomBlog.com

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