Extra Gravy, Please.

It's the week of Thanksgiving and all through my house
Not a creature was stirring
Except for me and my stupid workouts.

My free weights were behind the couch
Hidden with care
In hopes that my strength training routine would not go there.

My sweatpants
They clung
To my thighs like cake batter.

My sportsbra
It suffocated me
Like a boa constractor.

(What? I know it's supposed to be constrictor but that doesn't rhyme with batter, does it?)

In the middle of my second set of sidekicks
There arose such a clatter
I let my foot fall
To see what was the matter.

I ran to the window
Threw open the sash (Um...What exactly is a 'sash' anyhow? a curtain?)
I could not figure out
What had made such a crash.

I returned to my workout
And when I raised that foot
My hip groaned like a dog
That was totally pooped.

It was then that I realized the sound that I heard
Was nothing but my body
Not wanting to be disturbed.

I laughed at those creaks
And those pops
And those groans
I didn't give up or even once stop.

I thought to myself

As I should have all along

"Happy Thanksgiving!"

I deserve a day off!