She assigned me the role of Gaston in our latest staging of Beauty and the Beast.
I guess I have been hitting the weights pretty hard lately. My cap sleeve tops are definitely feeling snug.
But with the exception of fending off bingo wings, vanity's not my motivation.
I want to match my outer grit to my inner grit.
I want to lift my own bag (no matter how stuffed with high heels it is) into the overhead compartment.
I want to drop and give you 30 from my toes, not my knees.
I want to be no less formidable to her future suitors.
I want to carry all of the groceries (and wine) in one trip.
I want to play on the monkey bars too.
I want to eat salsa or green olives or goat milk caramel when I want to, even when it's a new jar.
I want to carry my pooped princess upstairs to bed until she won't let me anymore.