Last night in bed (oh, how my husband’s throat must close up to see me starting a sentence on my blog that way, it makes me giggle) I grabbed Otto and insisted there was a SNAKE! SNAKE IN THE BED! And he did not seem to find it all that amusing. I cannot imagine why. Because I thought it was completely hilarious. I plan to preface all important announcements this way from now on. Just because I think it’s a snappy way to get someone’s attention.
He got me back this morning, though. Oh yes he did. Not only did I have to rise at the buttcrack of dawn and get the kids ready for school, after they were dropped off Otto made me go exercise with him! To be fair, we’d discussed this last night, but last night it seemed like a really good idea, this whole “morning walk” thing, and this morning, going back to bed seemed like a MUCH BETTER IDEA. Alas.
I am currently living a very sedentary life, and this is bad for a number of reasons. First of all, it’s probably not very healthy in general. Second of all, I am getting OLD and when I actually DO exert my body—as infrequently as I manage it—I can feel it for days afterwards (or longer, if I’m unlucky). And lastly, I don’t know if you know this, but there are a lot of really yummy things to eat here in the south, all of which are encrusted in bacon fat or nuts or both. And eating has always been one of my very favorite hobbies! And it’s a hobby that Otto and I can share! So, um, to characterize our marriage as fat and happy would not be entirely inaccurate at this point, is all I’m saying.
And chasing snakes out of the bed doesn’t burn up nearly so many calories as you might think.
So we have vowed to go for morning walks together after the kids are dropped off, as this will allow us to eat more ice cream in the evenings.
Anyway. I like walking, I do. Of course when we bought this house I was certain that I would SWIM LAPS every day for exercise, because I love to swim and it’s a great workout and having a pool RIGHT HERE is just perfect. I neglected t take into account the fact that our pool—which is lovely, you understand, and we enjoy it very much—is not exactly lap-sized. This is the perfect size pool for the kids and for just lolling around and cooling off, but if I wanted to do laps in this pool it would sort of go like this:
Dive in, surface, stroke, touch the wall.
Turn, push off, stroke, touch the wall.
That ends up feeling like a lot of work but not much exercise. So. Walking it is!
I like walking with Otto because, well, I like him. Also, I haven’t figured out how to program my iPod yet. But mostly I like knowing that if I find myself face to face with danger, he’ll protect me. Or at least that he probably runs a little slower than I do. And this is important, because this is a strange and wondrous land filled with bizarre creatures.
Just this weekend the kids and I were headed out to the car (so that we could go to Kroger… Kroger’s motto should be “We’re The Most Mediocre Supermarket Around, But We’re Everywhere”) and when we stepped out into the garage, something VERY RED AND HAIRY scuttled out ahead of us. We three immediately declared “WHOA! What was THAT?” and ran out after it, at which point we were able to follow it down the driveway and marvel at it for quite a while.
Monkey wanted to pick it up to get a better look, but I stopped him, giving a short speech about how brightly-colored insects are often poisonous. Boy, did I feel relieved later on when I went to look up this creature online, because what we had there was a velvet ant (for the love of God, DO NOT click that link if you are squeamish), also known as a “cow killer.” While they don’t actually kill cows, the nickname comes from having an extremely potent sting (worse than most wasps). I’m glad I didn’t let Monkey pick it up, because that doesn’t sound like any fun at all, except for the part where later you get to tell people you were stung by a COW KILLER and lived to tell the tale.
I’m not sure where I was going with this, other than to say that I am eating too much and exercising too little and the bugs here scare me. The end.