Tuesday, November 11, 2008

More Heckling... Because I CAN :) (Sorry Dear!)

Hey, it's my blog. My dear husband can read it and hope to not be blog fodder, but it's a vain hope today. Mwa haha! :)

So, yesterday we were doing laps around the track at the gym. It's a nice track. He was making me walk on the outside so I would have to walk farther (because I always take the inside track and he says I'm not getting the workout that I should... sure, that's the reason we'll go with...) Did I just hear some whining? :)

Well, we are on our second lap and passing the windows that look down on the pool.

Rob: "I wonder if many people are in the pool?"
Me: "Let's check!"

I'm glancing down at the pool when I hear it. THUNK! Really loud! The man in walking in front of us turned to look in astonishment! What WAS that noise!

ROB'S HEAD hitting the glass. THAT'S what it was. LOUDLY! I thought the man walking in front of us was going to fall over. He certainly teetered over into Rob's track lane, grinning all the time! :)

Because, I KNOW what he was thinking... "Just WHAT did that guy SEE in the POOL to make him BONK his head so hard on the glass window?"

Let me just assure you that on the NEXT lap around the track, I CHECKED! Not that I don't trust him, but I figured there was a good chance for heckling. (And he SO loves that!) :)

All I saw were a few white-haired people swimming laps. Really. Nothing to make him look so hard that he would BONK his head like that.

So, unfortunately, we conferred on this as we rounded the track yet again... and he came to the conclusion that he is just clutzy. So sorry, dear! :) You know that I most certainly do not think you are clumsy! :)


Summer said...

Hey there's nothing wrong with clumsy people. I fell down the stairs yesterday morning- tripped over my own pajama pants. lol.

Chris said...

I agree! :) I'm actually a LOT more clumsy than Rob is. I can't even run on the treadmill without having to grab onto the rails occasionally! :)

BTW, I get heckled a LOT more BY Rob than he does by me. He LOVES to tell stories on me. He told the story of the first time I made him pancakes (and ended up in tears) for at least FIFTEEN YEARS. I finally put my foot down. :) I hit forty and I got TOUGH. :)