We’ve been getting our fitness on here at Casa Towbin lately. And by “fitness” I mean taking a leisurely walk a few days a week after a filling dinner of, say, pasta and bolognese sauce. But nonetheless, activity is happening. It’s usually just my husband and myself taking the walk, which is nice, but I’ve noticed something weird with him on these walks. Shocker.
(On our walk)
Me: You know, if The Handmaid’s Tale ever happens in real life, you BETTER become a commander and you BETTER take me up the rungs with you. That’s the only way I would survive in that kind of world. I’m not saying I’d in any way be happy living as the wife to a commander, but I just wouldn’t make it in a Red Center, and if those are my only options, then that’s what I would choose.
My husband: Uh huh. (munching on something)
Me: Are you eating something?
My husband: Yeah. Want one? (He presents a handful of jellybeans to me, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.)
Me: You’re eating jellybeans on our walk?
My husband: Sure. I always do.
Me: Where do you keep them?
My husband: In my pocket.
Me: You’re telling me you shove your pockets full of jellybeans and eat them on our walks?
My husband: Um, yeah. Do you want one? Here’s a cinnamon one. I know you like cinnamon.
Me: That’s not the point. (Me, taking the cinnamon one because duh.) We’re exercising and you really shouldn’t be counteracting that exercise by popping jellybeans one after the other.
My husband: I don’t care.
Me: You’re an odd duck.
The next day he didn’t even bother to hide his stash during our walk. He literally grabbed a box of Jujubees and ate them one by one over the course of 40 minutes (we went on an extra long walk that night, maybe because he was thinking Jujubees are higher in caloric value that jellybeans? I don’t know how his mind works, to tell you the truth).
So that’s how we do fitness over here. Yes, “we” because I always eat the cinnamon jellybeans from his stash. Ok, and the toasted marshmallow. And 17 other flavors.