Woman, Put Away The Eye Poking Stick

Health issues aside, I haven't been taking care of myself. Honestly, what mother does?

The answer?

The one that want to be around for her kids and grandkids.

Sigh.

In opposition to my entrenched indoor girl lifestyle and non-existent exercise habits, I did let CG persuade me into agreeing to a family hike last week.

However, when he woke us up at 6 AM on Sunday, I was less than enthusiastic.

Cranky. Sleep deprived. Pissed. All would be better descriptors.

Then, imagine my joy when I discovered the hike he planned which was sent to me, mistakenly or not, as a one hour appointment on my outlook calendar, was ACTUALLY slated to include 2-3 hours drive each way and then a fridiculous six hour plus hike?!

What the ever living....

My friends...what do we call pissed with a side of rage and the eyebrow raised frigidity of a stone cold murderer?

That's be Scouty on Sunday morning. Yes, it would.

It was to be a death march! Ohhhh, it's on!

I don't begrudge a family hike, but given neither he nor I have done any real exercise or hikes in months, this was ridiculous.

Injury much? Fun? Doubtful after third hour.

I mutinied as did Eldest. The two youngest kidlets, loyal as always, agreed to go.

Eyebrow was still raised in rebellion with a curled upper lip.

Luckily, CG discovered some small bit of sanity and decided to change the plans. Instead we went on a short 30 minute drive and an hour hike to waterfalls.

Ah, compromise.

Lip uncurled and eyebrow slowly relaxed.

Now this:



Scout can endorse this. Baby steps. CG are you listening? Baby steps, my husband.

And next time you propose a death march, I am getting out my eye poking stick, m'kay?

You think I jest? See that stick in my hand in the photo... eyebrows raised.

'lisciously scribed by Heather Murphy-Raines @ 1:07 PM