I went to my PT session tonight and Vasectopeas resulted.
My bloggy buddy Modern Mummy Mayhem and I joined up and got ourselves a PT. We share her. She kills us. We say crazy stuff. She seems okay with that. We all sweat and laugh and it’s more like therapea (oh yes) exercise than a work out.
I know there’s that whole thing about exercise releasing endorphins or feel good stuff, and that’s great, but the real benefits are in the banter. And the ensuing laughter. Because we are funny, and not just to watch in action!
The topics of conversation at our sessions range from bizarre yoga poses (I swear they’re reject moves from porn films – nobody’s hips can possibly open that wide, can they?) to avoiding cougar status to funny things our kids say. And sometimes we come up with our own moments of brilliance. Such as, you say? I give you our word of the week and I daresay it needs no further explanation. You ready?
You see, MMM had to apply frozen peas to her ankle after a fall recently and it transpired they had also been used to provide relief to her hubster after his vasectomy.
Can I help it that my thought processes came up with Vasectopeas and a mental image of vending machines outside every doctor’s surgery worldwide? Branded properly, I could be on a winner there and support pea farmers into the bargain. WAIT! I could become an entrepeaneur!
Sorry. Going back to my box. Or bag….