Hold Me Closer, Royal Dancer

When Bryon saw my post about our P90X progress, he said, "Hell no, will you ever get a picture of me without a shirt...ever

This is Bryon doing the Yoga DVD. It's 90 minutes. It sucks. Well, it did the first few times we did it; it has since begun to suck a little less because we've gotten better at it. I think it just sucks the way going to the dentist doesn't suck, especially after you have kids. You know what I mean? These days, going to the dentist means ninety minutes or so of time alone, with other adults who are going to talk to you about things like the weather, you, the news, whatever you direct the topic to and you won't have your kid with you and if you drive slowly home, it could be longer. You make it fun. Anyway, this is the "royal dancer" pose and this is Collin attacking the Rancor doing his best royal dancer pose.

What? You didn't know that Daddy, in his every waking moment is not really Daddy, but a living, breathing mutant creature from Star Wars that lives in a cave beneath Jabba the Hut that needs to be killed with a broken in half light saber (which you can't see from the angle, sorry). Anyway, as you can see, we aren't too zen with our yoga around here. We get the job done but aren't real chi, or whatever about it. What? Those are yoga words, aren't they? When Bryon and I do it together, there's a lot of chatting and trying to knock one another over.

There's the sword, but you couldn't see Bryon as well and that was really the point, right? You know what I think is awesome? That Eddie is lying on the floor in his bed watching all this, Collin is attacking him, and I'm clearly lying on the bed taking a photo. What does that tell you about this whole scenario?

Since Bryon is TDY and I can't take a picture of his reaction to my posting this humiliation, this is how I imagine his adorable, yet somewhat pathetic indignation will look. (Really, I just took a cute picture of my cat and wanted to share it. I know; I'm lame).

In the sake of fairness to my furry and tortured animals, doesn't the dog look pathetic when he gets a bath?

When Collin was a baby, he would cry hysterically when Eddie got a bath because he stunk like wet dog and apparently, Collin has a strong sense of smell and disliked it when Eddie was wet. The house would be in turmoil until he was dry because Collin couldn't handle Eddie's stench. The poor dog would be beside himself because he was wet and uncomfortable and because the baby was upset. Well, not much has changed, except now Collin's got verbalization skills which I'm not sure is more or less irritating than hysterics. Constant whining that, "Moooooommmmmy, Eddie smells baaaaaaddd," is grating on the nerves. I told him to cut off his nose but he didn't think that an adequate solution. And, before anyone suggests using the blow dryer on the dog, we are talking about a dog that is afraid of ceiling fans.