So, everyday, coming home from the gym, we happen to pass by my old stompin' grounds, SONIC (I'm salivating as I type this - it's been 4 weeks without the sauce). And everyday, Swayze thinks she needs a grape limeade.
Today just so happens to be Thursday. I work with a trainer on Thursdays, and it is absolutely kicking my tail! Let me just give everyone a head's up by saying, never ever, EVER, under any circumstances tell your trainer, "Oh, I really wasn't that sore after our last session." They will kick your butt even more the next session. I think all trainers think it's funny to make your clients throw up. And I'm bound and determined not to give him the satisfaction of doing so. Anyhoo, he worked me really really hard today, and as we were on our way home from the gym, this being only 10:30 in the morn, Miss Swayze wants her grape limeade. Here's the convo:
Swazye: "Mom, can we go and get me a gwape wimeade?"
Me, trying everything in my power to just make it home so I don't throw up in the car: "Maybe a little bit later. How about after lunch?"
Swayze: "I want a gwape wimeade!"
Me, getting my airplane barf bag out (it's always in my purse, ready and waiting): "Fine. But please, stop talking."
Swayze: "Mom? Can we get a gwape wimeade?"
Me: "Yes, just... shoosh."
Swayze: "Ok Mom. Don't forget about my gwape wimeade."
Me: "Swazye, enough already."
By the way, I did make it home without a hitch, thank goodness. And Swayze got her "gwape wimeade." Thank more goodness.
3 comments:
So, Leigh, can you get me a gwape wimeade? I wuv those wike cwazy!
swazye, anytime babe you call me and we'll go get one!
You are such a tough cookie! I am too weak to give up my soda.
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