Sunday morning, I was finishing up my pre-Easter-ham-gorge Insanity workout when my younger son, trying to be supportive, demonstrated how easy it was to do mountain climbers while holding a Reese’s egg in each hand.
Somehow it came off as more smartassy.
Apparently he’s following in his brother’s footsteps. My older son, from a very young age, has always loved plopping himself on the couch, powdered donut or some other treat in hand, and watching me work out.
One day when he was about 4 years old, I was pretty much beasting the triangle pose at the end of level 2 of this workout.
My son, however, felt there was room for improvement. “Mom,” he said, relaxing on the couch behind me with a chocolate-covered granola bar, “I think you can go a little deeper than that.”
It was almost as if I had Jillian right there with me, screaming in my ear about the only person being cheated with my half-assed triangle pose was myself.