Real Time

 

Aidan again. That boy's on a roll!

Backdrop. I'm in terrible shape and feel old and sad and gray and weak and heart-skippy and sludgy. Just now I thought I *might* try a workout that Annika (way too enthusiastically) has been trying to suck me into.

The workout uses 15-25 pound weights. 
There's no way I can lift that much. Right now I have tennis elbow so bad (from no physical activity at all, wot?) that I can't squeeze a salad dressing bottle without it hurting, so I asked Cadence to find me the little weights they use for fun. 

Cadence: "Do you want the five-pound weights or the three-pound weights?"

Me: "Um. I'm a wimp. Better bring the three-pound weights."

Aidan, apparently listening from the other room, abruptly bellowed, "Mama!!! Are you doing a workout??!!  The emergency number is 911, right?!"

(Har, har, har.)

And, yes, I confirmed the emergency number. Just *thinking* about moving is making my heart skip. 

Edit: Did not work out. Did make supper!