Last week I had to take both numbers 3 and 4 to the gym with me. While I was getting ready they were
hounding the crap out of me waiting patiently on the bed.
# 3 “Mommy where are we going today?”
Me “To they gym.”
# 3 “WHY do we have to go THERE?! I hate going to the GYM!” (insert annoying 4 year old whining)
Me “I go to the gym so I can get skinny.”
I pause here to explain that #3 has a minor obsession with my squishy belly. Most kids have a favorite stuffed animal or security blanket. NOT my kid, he digs my spare tire! Yeah okay, so he might grow up to have “issues” but I like that at least one person has respect for the ol’ muffin top.
He then works himself up into a full-on four year old FIT! We’re talking tears streaming down his face, moaning, whining and feet stomping.
# 3 “NOOOOOO Mommy I don’t want you to get skinny. DON’T go to the gym! PLEEEEASE!”
Despite his very persuasive argument, and my own tendencies towards laziness, off to the gym we go. I get
tortured a good work out, go down to the play room and pick up the kids. Each of them grabs a hand, beaming up at me, ready to get on with the day.
# 3 “See Mommy it didn’t work! You’re still FAT!”
Why do I bother?