Getting Back in Shape
I feel like my body has gotten totally out of shape, so I got my doctor’s permission to join a fitness club and start exercising. I decided to take an aerobics class.
I bent, twisted, gyrated, jumped up and down and perspired for an hour. But, by the time I got my leotards on, the class was over.
I decided to stop worrying about my teenage son’s driving and take advantage of it.
I got one of those bumper stickers that says “How’s my driving?” and put a 900 number on it.
At 50 cents a call, I’ve been making $38 a week.
Our first three babies, all girls, each weighed about seven pounds at birth. When our fourth arrived, he was much larger.
After delivery, the medical team began testing and measuring my new son. The last reading came from a nurse, who seemed impressed as she read, “Weight, nine pounds, eight ounces.”
My husband, a CPA in corporate finance who’d been quiet up to this point, could contain himself no longer.
“How about that!” my husband exclaimed happily. “It’s 36.5% more baby!”