paul and i agree to disagree

Guess what Paul did yesterday?

Go ahead, guess.

You'll never guess. Although I kinda want to know what you're guessing.

Okay, I'll tell you.

He went to a workout class with me.

I KNOW! I didn't think he would, either. Ever since I started going to my friend Sarah's workout studio, I've been telling Paul he should come with me, so he can have a birds-eye view of the torture I willingly submit to on a tri-weekly basis.

I'd be all like "You should totally come with me", and he'd be all like "Yeah, um, sure...maybe....sometime...." which I understood to mean "Not ever ever in a million years but I want you to feel validated".

And then, yesterday, he was like "Maybe I'll go with you today" and I was like "YES! COME WITH ME! IT WILL BE AWESOME!!! OHMYGOSH IT'S SO HARD!!! LET'S TALK ABOUT OUR FEELINGS!!!" (I get over-enthusiastic. I blame it on my lady-parts.)

So, he went with me, discovered that it was, indeed, super duper difficult, and announced that he had no use whatsoever for "those" types of exercises.

By "those" he means all the toe-pointing, draw a circle with your foot, hold your leg out at an angle and lift it slightly like a million times in a row exercises.

"When do you ever need to know how to do that? What purpose do those exercises serve?" he asked.

"They make my butt look nice" I said.

"But why? I NEVER NEED TO KNOW HOW TO DRAW A CIRCLE IN THE AIR WITH MY FOOT" he ranted, "but when do I need to run around people? Every day. When do I want to punch someone? Every. Other. Minute." He spoke slowly, reverently, with tremendous emphasis.

"I just want my butt to look nice" I said.

Paul glanced appreciatively at my derriere and, with that, we agreed to disagree.