Actually ...

The Word of the Week is "Actually." Even Miss Ashley at his school is now "Miss Actually."

So here's something he actually wrote ...

His Magnum Opus ... dictated from his location atop The Big Bed this evening while flipping through the pages of some old board book about barn life by Margaret Wise Brown:

"One day there were some flowers ...
And two horses.
But somebody was hungry.
And then they flied.
They're hungry.
Hay is for horses.
Can you read me a story?"

There are other stories of course ... but I fail to mention them usually because I am so caught up in writing about myself. Who, by the way, is doing just fine, thank you for asking. Usually his stories involve The Zoo Crew (remember them? Gordon the Gorilla and Morton the Mouse ... Super Fix-It Heroes who drive the big white work truck with the big silver tool box on the back? And sometimes a flatbed trailer?). Yes, of course you remember them. They're the ones who shop at Lowe's Depot.

Well, let's see ...

There is big news:

An unknown four-year-old was discovered living just one house down ON. THE. SAME. SIDE. OF. THE. STREET. Last night there was a playdate (while I was at Hot Yoga -- more on that later -- and we suspect Dr. Pepper was involved since he didn't go to sleep until after 10 p.m.). Surely they did not give him caffeine-laced soda! It might as well have been arsenic!

We asked him what he drank, and his only reply was, "Black juice." Fishy ...

So, I'm well on my way to dropping my newly gained 10 pounds, cute as they may be poking out through the pockets on all of my work pants. Last night I began my Hot Yoga class and, despite coming so close to death that I "saw the light," I feel that it was mostly a good experience. You know, in an even-though-I-nearly-died sort of way.

And for some reason no one thought it was funny when I -- after soaking through two entire monogrammed BKB towels -- yelled out, "Boy is it hot in here!" I thought it was well timed, but apparently you're supposed to be quiet and suffer silently. And don't get too much sweat on the floor because it's a safety hazard. Um, excuse me, but doing 75 minutes of yoga in a sauna is, in and of itself, a safety hazard.

For those of you who don't know about hot yoga, here's the low down: Some guy named Bikram one time decided that it'd be a good idea to try to kill people while they got all relaxed and gumby-like while practicing yoga. So he developed this "routine" that you do in a room with about 40 other suicidal people and their heater friends. The room is usually around 100 degrees, but please do not try to exit the studio during a session. It might disturb the other practitioners. And do not dare call it "Bikram's Yoga" unless you have sent your teachers to India where there are "mosquitoes big enough to rape a chicken" (quote from my new favorite book: Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert).

Really: Do Not Even Consider walking to the door in search of oxygen, because who wants to be disturbed while they sweat out enough toxins to kill a water buffalo? Not me! I loved all of it! Even the part where the disgusting, hairy man beside me farted out loud! Even when I nearly choked because sweat was running up through my nose and down into my windpipe!

Yes, even in the lowest moment, I was still myself: an adherent to All Rules Everywhere. And just when my water ran out, it was over.

I'm NEVER going back.

Except for next Tuesday.

OU&S ...

k