My husband is stinking hilarious.
For the first time since January 23, he posted on his blog last night.
He’s been a quarterly (if that) blogger for quite some time now.
Just as soon as someone gets really interested in his writing
He’s very bipolar. manic depressive. about his blogging.
In any case.
His last two (yes TWO posts) had me railing for endless minutes.
Maybe you won’t think he’s funny.
Maybe it’s a connection we have.
Maybe our form of humor is totally lost on the rest of the world.
But alas, you must give him a chance.
And because “his public wants to know” whether or not I murdered him, you should go read.
But start with this post.
(the last paragraph is my favorite part.)
And then follow it up with this one.
And in case you’re wondering about MY perspective of the whole issue…
I did say I was going to lay down the law.
It was time for some smack down.
[insert accurate street language.]
I was sick of his running shoes just sitting.
Chillaxing in his closet.
HE was the one who decided to spend $40 on shoes.
“Knowing” he’d feel guilty for spending money and then not using them.
Thus forcing himself to try running with me.
We went twice.
Maybe three times.
Granted it was winter.
And being a noob I didn’t force him to brave the temps.
It is harder to breathe when your oxygen freezes in your lungs.
But now it’s spring.
And I’m getting fed up.
So like I said, I laid the smack down.
All the while leaving tons of room for him to back down.
Figuring he would.
Having learned that I get really really upset when I get my hopes up for nothing.
Which is why I was really surprised when he said “yes” this morning.
We had talked about doing a run-walk.
Run one minute. Walk one minute.
Which I’m totally cool with because you can’t just run three miles having had no previous cardiovascular training.
So I was surprised.
BUT then I found out it was on his terms.
Which means running shoes weren’t utilized.
He wanted to bike.
To the library.
Now that’s all well and good, but I’m not a fan of biking alone for exercise.
I can’t get to my MHR biking.
Well, I probably could but I’m simply not coordinated enough to trust myself going 50 mph on two wheels.
I’ve had way too many bike accidents.
And besides the clumsiness factor, biking for exercise equals biking fast which equals no way of conversing.
And that’s the fun of it for me.
Being side by side. Running or walking.
Talking now and again.
With biking he’s way behind me (so as to know run into me when I swerve wildly).
And it’s windy.
And there’s cars.
And no bonding can be had.
Bonding is my thing.
I am “Bondo’s” daughter after all.
(Dad calls my Mom “Bondo” because she bonds with everyone.)
All in all, it was a nice morning.
But gosh darn it, I WILL get him running with me.
If it’s the LAST thing I do.
I love you, darling. *wink*