On lazy Saturday mornings, we have our coffee, I read blogs, hubs reads the paper, the boy and girl catch up on TV toons before the weekend ramps up.
We used to go to the gym as a family for my regular BODYJAM party, while hubs did whatever he does there, and bring the kids to the childminding (pre- "the wounded knee/ thrown out back" period of my body fail). I am working to get back to regularly scheduled body maintenance. For now husband still tries to get to the spinning class around 11 AM to lose the extra ten pounds of travel weight he's gained over the winter. The girlie has a dance class at the civilized hour of 10:45 AM on Saturday mornings.
The predicament? What to do with the boy. Does he feel like coming with the girls to the dance class to wait it out, or go to the stinky gym childminding room? Decisions, decisions.
This past Saturday morning, the girl comes to the kitchen from the family room and announces,
"Mommy, I don't want to go to dance lessons this morning."
To which I replied, "You really should, sweetie, you missed it last week because you weren't feeling well."
"Okay, Mommy." And off she went.
Back to the family room shouting,
"L-boy, I HAVE to go to dance class today. Mommy said."
Nice try, buddy.
And now for your 80's pleasure...
(Wonder how long it will be before they remake this one? After all, we're hearing all sorts of interesting sampling these days...mind you, I think that makes Flo-Rida pretty sweet)
Not as sweet as this though... gawd, I miss those days...(silly segue, but I wanted an excuse to include this...)