While my husband was trying to get a ball rally going all I could picture in my mind was this picture::
And to make this image of ME running even worse, there were easily 200 crazy women folk doing ZUMBA in the gym while we were being illuminated against it with the brightness of our glass encased court. So now picture this cute chubby little girl, as a chubby BIG me in a lighted up FISH TANK!
For shame people. For. Shame. I now give you permission to sanitize your brain.
As I would stand there like a zombie hyper-focusing about my jiggling bottom in my TIGHT yoga pants, PICTURING that some crazy zumba dancing lady was going to stop, point her fingers and LAUGH at my saggy fanny, Josh would yell, "C'mon babe! HUSTLE!" Trying to snap me out of my deer in headlights trance, he had no idea that he was actually contributing to a completely NEW hellish nightmare that goes something like this::
If you are wondering what the significance of the picture above is, let me enlighten you!
7th and 8th grade P.E.
"LETS HUSTLE GIRLS!!!"
"Enough TALKING and more RUNNING ladies!"
"HANSEN! Quit dilly-dallying and go after the BALL!"
Apparently I have never been much of a hustler when it comes to sports. And nothing miraculous changed yesterday just because I was trying to show off to my husband! Looking back on it now, I am pretty sure most of the working out yesterday was being done by my husband. Poor guy.
But to no avail. I did redeem myself for one slight moment...
And guess what! Lucky Josh... It was HIM that got it square in the face.
Great game babe! GREAT GAME! ;)
ps. Yeah, I wish I could totally take credit for any injury caused to my husband during this test of wills... but the sad truth is I have a HORRIBLE swing. If I ever was lucky enough to actually make contact with the ball, it generally went towards my husband's face. ha! Whoops!
All images were found on BING. I take no ownership to any of these artistic properties... just enjoying them like everyone else!
















