How My Husband Ended Up Being My Trainer

A stomach virus went through our house last week and it was a veritable poop storm over here.  This is not a euphemism. In related news, parenting is gross.

Anyhoo…thanks to the great Poonami 2012 I didn’t participate in dryland training last week although I drove Speed Skating Son so he could. Only, 15 minutes into it he came running over and was all “my stomach feels funny” but he hadn’t been to keen on going to dryland that night so I thought he was faking and sent him back out.

I know, that’s some awesome parenting right there, right?

Thankfully, the second time he came over and said his stomach felt funny, I listened (but not before giving him the parenting stink-eye and the old “are you absolutely sure?”) because we barely made it home in time.

Not to be outdone, Hockey Skating Son decided to also partake in the poop action about two hours later.

Did I mention we were leaving for a four day trip the next day? One that would have us in the van for four hours?  We like to live dangerously at our house.

Hockey Playing Husband is very good at laying low when the entire house is playing musical toilets.Thankfully, he is also super smart when it comes to working out. He knows a lot from his years of lifting weights and he likes to research everything. Everything. He is the calm to my storm. Last week, after having one, or possibly two, glasses of wine I turned to Hockey Playing Husband and said, “I need your help with speed skating training because I absolutely suck and I can’t do this on my own.”  And apparently he was all into it. Most likely because he gets to boss me around and cause pain.  I was so excited I had another glass of wine to celebrate.

By the next day I had completely forgotten about it because I had celebrated so much. But then two days later he told me he ordered me a CD with flexibility exercises from a speed skating site because he couldn’t do anything with me until I got more flexible.  And on the outside I was smiling and “Hey, that’s awesome” while on the inside I had no idea what the hell he was talking about and was all …Wha?

Which is how I ended up with my husband training me.

I may need to buy more wine.

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About Sharon

Sharon DeVellis is a mother, wife and writer who can uncork a wine bottle in less than 10 seconds but buys twist-offs for emergencies. She’s currently in therapy to stop talking about herself in third person.
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9 Responses to How My Husband Ended Up Being My Trainer

  1. Susan says:

    Hahahaha, my husband tried to train me once too. Good luck!

  2. Maija @ Maija's Mommy Moments says:

    Does your husband have any evidence that this conversation actually happened? I’m pretty sure you cannot enter into a binding agreement if you’re intoxicated #JustSayin.

  3. Chantal says:

    Poonami 2012. Awesome.

  4. Kat says:

    I hope you’ve got a good wine budget.

  5. You are a lucky woman. :-)

  6. Joe Tomaro says:

    Poonami 2012! Instant Classic.

  7. I’m not sure if anything good can come of this. Just sayin

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