Counting

The days of Husband's beard are numbered. People telling him he looks like the guy on the Febreze commercial didn't deter him. Having the kids run from his kisses didn't deter him. Threatening him to carve "ew" with the Lady Remington while he slept didn't deter him. No, apparently money talks.

He had just finished his lunch and went in to see his 1:00 for a consultation. The patient seemed a little distracted but it wasn't until the guy left that Husband looked in the mirror. He had a drop of his milkshake hanging on the left side of his mustache.

Husband promised it would be gone before my 40th. I told him it wouldn't matter because I'd be gone by then. No, I wouldn't leave him over something like facial hair. I was thinking that I'd like to go on a road trip. One of my friends suggested it because she just came back from one and saw a sweet retro polka dotted raincoat and thought of me.

But, chances are, Baby Sister will be going into labour that weekend so I don't want to gas up the Falcon just yet.

On that note, I'm almost done creating the invitations for her baby shower (April 13 at Mum's). I thought the invitations would be the biggest thing I'd be doing this week (I'm not even joking, sadly), but I was wrong. I got a little editing gig and – wait for it – I was asked, point blank, if I would be seriously interested in being a fitness instructor.

I've been taking a low weight/high repetition class religiously for two-and-a-half years. I really like it and I can open my own pickle jars, thank you very much. There is one instructor who is cutting right back and she does most of the early morning classes. They have people who have reluctantly agreed to take over, but no one else will substitute for them. So, given the choice of teaching or having the class dropped, yes, I'll instruct. Am I physically ready? I doubt it. I need serious work on the shoulders. I must take a break mid-way through the track, but I do half of my push-ups on my toes. Does that count for anything? And I really ought to have stronger abs. Anyway, I'll know more about it tomorrow.

This came on the day someone told me I had a killer bum. She doesn't know how hard it was to earn that Jennifer Lopez booty, let me tell you. Here's a video of the exact class I take, but this one is from Chile.