Is Going To Feel The Burn
It is, of course, my husband’s fault. It is always my
husband’s fault. He agreed to that, it was in the vows, I remember
This whole mess started
with an commercial featuring several scantily clad and probably
very snotty women rolling around on the back of a powerful yacht.
And rolling around in the sand on the beach, and rolling around
in the water, and so on. Much like Weebles meets Playboy.
Naturally, my “I only have eyes
for you, honey,” husband was unable to keep the drool from flowing
down his chin. He swears it was the yacht that made him spitty
but I don’t believe it for a minute. The evidence is against
You see, he never said a word about the yacht. Not a peep
about it’s smooth lines or seductive glow. Perhaps, as he insists,
he was struck dumb by the sheer beauty of the yacht.
Don’t you believe it. Not struck dumb at all, my friends.
He managed to comment twice during the 60 second commercial
and neither time did he mention the boat, or the sand, or the
He did, however,
mention the girls. Twice. Did I mention that? Twice.
All women know what happens when a spouse or boyfriend
or even girlfriend compliments another woman. It does not matter
what the loved one’s intentions were in the heat of the stupid
comment moment. It does even really matter what was said. What
matters is what women hear.
HE SAYS: “Wow, that
bikini clad hottie, in whom I have absolutely no interest in
ever meeting, dating or marrying, sure has nice legs.”
A fairly inoffensive
comment but unfortunately, not what she hears at all.
SHE HEARS: “Wow,
that woman sure has nice legs. Much better than your stumpy
old things. Her legs are so incredible and yours are so surprisingly
hideous that I am now wondering why I married you in the first
place. I know, I’ll start stalking Ms. Great Legs and you can
run off and join a convent somewhere. You’re going to have to
hide those hideous legs away to protect humanity. No one should
have to see those. Oh, and by the way, your butt ain’t what
it used to be either.”
And just like that, the happy-go-lucky wife has developed
a serious self image problem and is going to need serious therapy.
Hope you’re happy, Mr. Big Mouth.
We all know what happens when wives need therapy. Somebody
is going to pay through the nose. So off I went on a shopping
expedition. It’s not as bas as it sounds, I’m a good wife. And
he has my credit cards so it’s not like thrift wasn’t the order
of the day.
I bought, and I must
have been hormonal, an exercise dvd. It’s my first. I’m very
excited about this new me. Screw those bikini models, my legs
are at least as long as theirs are and I do have the proper
number. Just give me some time with my new exercise dvd and
hubby will start drooling all over the place.
At least that’s the plan.
I have a bad history with exercise. Two problems really, I am
incredibly lazy and, worse, I am incredibly uncoordinated. Also
unable to tell left from right. Which, as you might imagine,
leads to problems in aerobics classes. So make that three problems.
only takes two or three spectacular collisions on the mat after
I find myself going to the wrong left before I’m asked gently
to think about taking yoga instead.
And I have. It was fun. One time
I even broke a sweat. Just a little, maybe a glisten or a glow.
I might have stayed with yoga but it just got too spiritual
for me. I was doing a standup gig one night and ran into my
yoga instructor. All well and good until I spotted her throwing
her leg over her ear for shots at the bar. After that, I couldn’t
concentrate on the spiritual side because of the overwhelming
jealousy. Mine. What a neat trick! Who knew yoga was practical?
Doesn’t matter, I’m on target
now with my very own, do-it-yourself fitness plan on dvd. Which,
it appears, was produced in the same studios/hotel rooms as
Ron Jeremy’s entire back catalog. Pun most definitely and with
great glee, intended.
Have you ever really listened
to an exercise dvd? Those women instructors sound like they’re
just one part time gig away from a porno flick. “Now sweat.
And pump. And can you feel the burn? Sigh and moan and stretch
and really feel it now. Deeper, that’s it.” Who are these people?
None of them look as if they
could walk and chew gum at the same time. Unless it burned lots
of calories. For that matter, nobody human can smile and do
sit ups at the same time. It’s just not possible. And do they
honestly expect me to be able to hop, move my arms, tighten
my stomach and hold my head up at the exact same time? While
looking left? And not forgetting to breathe?
Seriously, does that ever
happen? Do people actually forget to breathe? Shouldn’t we just
let those people go and thank Darwin
I may have to turn this exercise dvd into a charming coaster.
There’s no way I’m going to be able to do this. I broke a glisten
just trying to open the dvd in the first place. This just isn’t
You know, maybe my husband
really was drooling over the yacht. Why would he lust for another
woman when he’s got someone as fun and exciting to hang with
as me? It’s a thrill a minute living with me, as you can imagine.
And hubby does like boats. Come to think of it, he may have
said, “Wow, with fuel tanks that big, that boat must have some
serious legs on it.”
Graham is a standup comic, voice actor and all around funny
girl based on Galveston, TX. She has great legs, thank you very
much. She can be reached at Lyssa@LyssaGraham.com
. She’ll be happy to explain the Ron Jeremy reference and
pun (which we can all agree is brilliant) upon request.