Now don't get me wrong, I don't actually look like that. I don't actually look fat at all, which is also part of the problem. There's a bit of a spare tire there, but that's about all. And that's what worries me. I know I'm in terrible shape, and if it's not showing on the outside, what does it look like on the inside? Say, around my heart? I've been slowly but methodically ruining the planet of me and the inhabitants have not seemed to care. Until now. Until her.
I swear I tried to find a better picture of her, one where she didn't have her ass pointed in the air, but all the other ones I could find on google sucked. And, for a digitally animated fitness trainer, she's got a nice caboose. If you don't recognize her, she's one of the trainers from the Wii Fit. Connor and Liam have named her Padmé.
Um... ya, I can work with that. Thanks, boys. Anyway, despite a rocky start when she told me my Wii Fit age was 47 even though it's SO not, our love has continued to grow. Today, my third day in, she told me I was 31. I knew she loved me. Sure it feels like she's taken a lead pipe to both my knees, but I know she means it in a good way. And if it means I'll be able to chase my kids around the house for more than five minutes before falling to the floor clutching my chest, then it's all worth it.
I love you, Padmé.
*I stole this from a comment I left on somebody's blog. It did result in a lawsuit being filed by me against myself, but it was eventually settled out of court.
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