Gym: I can't figure out why no one at the fitness center wants to run by me on the treadmill. Is it my elephant-like elegance, my labor-like breathing techniques, the fact that I sing along to the country love ballads on my Ipod or that I ate a fiber bar right beforehand?
Tan: Rob went and got hisself a farmer's version, complete with glove lines, after our softball practice on Sunday. I seen it. It's hott. (I must note I wrote the incorrect grammar on purpose).
Laundry: We put Faith in charge of this.
Good thing our little maid only charges in Gerber puffs cause she always leaves the house messier than she found it and she can't match a sock to save her soul.
And yes, for those of you wondering, that pile of clothes is still sitting in the basket, unfolded and now probably wrinklier than this guy:
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