Too many stories, too little time.
Rain, changed plans from adventure trail to indoor playground.
Rush, run, scream, play, laugh, talk, quarrel, hug, climb, tumble, hungry.
Eat largest ice-cream sundae we’ve ever seen.
House, watch movies, good conversations, Australian footie, share music.
Supper, pizza, fruits, dessert.
Heavy eyelids, drained, cuddle, cab ride home.
End of day. Beginning of new adventures.
I have to sleep and get ready for an early morning run tomorrow. The need to run has gone beyond a desire to complete the marathon because I split a pair of skinny jeans on Wednesday, and busted the zipper on my shorts on Friday. Not good.
‘Dear, did I put on weight?’ I ask the Husband, holding up my torn clothing.
‘Nah,’ he replies without looking up. ‘I’m sure they are just old, that’s why they tore.’
‘You didn’t even look at me!’ I say, frowning as I stare at my belly.
‘Okay, maybe you have gotten a little rounder but it’s okay! No one will notice.’
‘Sure. The jeans and shorts tell a good enough story though,’ I whine.
‘Not if you keep quiet and resist writing about this,’ he smirks.
The more I resist food, the greater the urge to eat.
And so, I run.
Me. On the trails tomorrow. Note the frown of determination.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is my life in a nutshell.
Feeling like a nut.