( Anyone get that Billy Squier reference in the title? If so, can we be friends?)
Today I'm linking up with More than Cheese and Beer. Our word prompt is "run".
Oh boy. Actually running is not a concept I'm familiar with. I nearly had to google it to get the exact definition.
I do have a general idea of "running". And I don't like it. I don't "run". If you ever do see me running, just go on and start running yourself. Because some bad shit is about to happen.
I prefer to move at a much slower pace. Maybe even a crawl, if you will. Even my toddler can outrun me.
Nearly every time I take her outside to play, I hear the dreaded words, "Mommy, let's race!"
Gah. No. How about we don't race and just sit here and stare at cars passing instead. We can ponder on the meaning of life. How's that sound instead, little girl?
But I don't say that. Instead I get up and prepare myself to be humiliated. If you can try for a minute to imagine this..
She leans over and prepares herself in the correct way to run. (Stripper ran track for many years and has passed his infinite knowledge on to her)
She starts to count down.
On your mark...get set...GO!!
Me, well I'm still standing there dreading it. She takes off in a blast while I grip my boobs the best I can and limp along. Did I mention I don't run? I think I did.
She beats me in an instant. She is already on her way back by the time I have taken two steps. And guess what? Those two steps made me tired, dammit.
I hate running. That is all.