I'm getting to this post very late in the day because Edward, the hubby, hogged the computer for work needs, and I was busy throughout the day with my own work. Yes, I actually do something productive besides shop for Spanx. For the four of you who may be reading this, well actually three, because I don't think my husband counts, I will not be posting tomorrow or over the weekend.
I started out this morning with an hour long fitness training session with Thor, my personal trainer of three years. Thor is many years younger than I, but we have become quite comfortable with each other and even share personal information. This morning, however, he was looking at me strangely and standing at a distance but not telling me what was the problem. I knew that I had showered and I hadn't had time to develop any kind of sweaty odor. Of course, halitosis is always possible, but I don't think I really have that problem. Finally, he said, "you smell like beer". I responded, loudly, because I always speak loudly when I'm making a point or offended or joking or, hell, I just always speak loudly, "that's my cranberry body lotion, and it doesn't smell like beer."
A new bottle of cranberry body lotion is now lying at the bottom of my bathroom wastebasket. What made me think that cranberry could ever be a pleasant odor on my body?
Thor is a great trainer - truly the best I have ever had - but he is not one to sugarcoat the truth. When I told him that I didn't like my flat behind, he told me that I needed a Brazilian butt lift. Thinking this was some kind of exercise regimen, I said, "Let's get on that immediately," but was disappointed to learn that it was a plastic surgery procedure. When I offered to be a model in one of his exercise videos, he said my form wasn't good enough, and I never understood an exercise with just one explanation. When I told Edward, he asked why I couldn't model the wrong version of an exercise routine. Well, at least the hubby was looking out for my narcissistic needs.
As a loyal follower, I must ask you to consider investing in a second computer -- so that Edward doesn't get in the way of the blogging need.
ReplyDeleteAnd for my two cents, no surgery on your buns. Your cheeks can either fly or they can't.
Thank you for being such a loyal reader. I certainly will consider your advice about the cheeks.
ReplyDeleteIf you want that butt lift, I'll join you....say when!!
ReplyDeleteOh fab Fran. Let's do it.
ReplyDelete