I had to work late last night. Later than usual. I got home around 8pm or maybe a bit later. Who knows because all I could think about was the fact that I still had to injure myself...*ahem*...I mean, work out. All I wanted to do was get this workout done and over so that I could pour a bowl of my homemade chili for din din and chill out for about 3 minutes before the nightly demands started. I walk through the front door and see that my 6 year old daughter is fast asleep on the couch.
I can work out and then eat my dinner without having to stop and answer 50 questions about if I got her anything while I was at work, why the sky is blue, and why I'm the only one in the house that she wants me to cook her dinner.
I race upstairs and throw my shorts and Dukes of Hazzard tshirt on-because a Dukes of Hazzard tshirt clearly says: I'm a badass-and run downstairs to begin my workout. That's when I realize that I have something attached to my side. A cling-on of some sort. It comes up to about my elbow and has disheveled light brown hair.
The princess has awakened from her slumber.
"Mommy-I'm-hungry-will-you-cook-me-dinner-and-read-this-book-where-is-the-United-States-on-this-map-I-thought-we-lived-in-a glove-that-doesn't-look-like-a-glove-oh-you-mean-we-live-in-Michigan-INSIDE-the-United-States-I-have-to-go-to-the-bathroom-can-you-watch-my-food-how-much-longer-do-you-have-to-workout??? I'm bored."
It's truly a work out just to get to my workout.