Work Out

As I brushed my teeth in front of the bathroom mirror, an odd noise came from the other end of the apartment, grunts and heavy breathing. Even the hum of my electric Sonacare toothbrush couldn’t drown out the sound.

I poked my head around the corner to find my husband pumping iron. He stood and puffed out his chest like a glistening statue of bulging biceps and steel pecs. Kinda, sort of… well, almost.

He rooted himself in front of the mirror, strategically under the recessed lighting, and watched his muscles grow with each rep of the 20lb dumbbells. A recent purchase from Kmart. I never knew a mini Hulk Hogan loomed behind that slender 6’3 frame.

He caught my eye, winked, and laughed. I rolled my eyes and spit out the remaining toothpaste that I managed not to choke on. Fifteen seconds later I heard footsteps. He squeezed behind me in the bathroom and flipped the extra light switch. Because it’s all about the lighting.

He turned side to side, flexed his muscles, rolled his shoulders, tightened his stomach, and then dabbed his forehead with the washcloth.

“Babe, look at my muscles. Just look at them! They’re huge. Woo!”

“You just bought those weights and you lifted them for almost 45 seconds,” I reminded him. Honestly, did he think that 12 reps would do that much? Apparently, yes. Yes, he did.

“Babe, please. I’m huge, and I’m only going to get bigger.”

And, after only being married for nine and half months, I’ve learned what to say in a situation like this…

“Of course.”