So, the boy and I decided to go to the gym for a quik-e workout. Busy daddy stayed at home and cleaned the house, which really needed it. Thanks busy daddy for taking care of the mess made by the geriatric cat (who honestly is on his last leg).
Two things from the gym: I don’t want to become one of those guys who has to go the gym. I pretty much told my trainer Chris G. that as soon as my OCD kicks in and I start obsessively exercising, then it’s probably time for me to pull back a bit. The gym was empty, which was great, although there was this one guy who was huge—at least the top half of his body was huge. But he had these teeny tiny chicken legs. It’s weird that someone would want to do that to his body. I mean, if you’re always going to wear long pants and a tank top, then fine. But if you’re going to be dressed like a normal person and sometimes wear shorts, then your stick legs are going to show.
Second, there’s a cute Colombian girl whose mom is clearly on the same workout schedule that I am. The boy often runs into the girl at the child care center. She makes swoony eyes at him and follows him around. When I picked up the boy after my workout, the activities coordinator told me that the boy has a girlfriend now, that the girl asked him if he could have a play date with her away from the gym.
As we were leaving, we saw the girl with her mom at the cafe. The girl waved at the boy and called his name.He ignored her. I told the boy, There’s your girlfriend. The boy said, “She’s my friend. And she’s a girl. But she’s not my girlfriend.” I said, That’s cool. The boy said, “She’s stinky. But she’s fun to play with.” I think maybe he’s in love, too.