Dress-up

A while back I mentioned that I was in the middle of becoming a certified fitness/aerobics instructor. Today I taught an aerobics class for a "special population"; my special population of choice was expecting (expecting a baby, that is) and postpartum mothers. My teaching parter is expecting, but for this rest of us, a balloon sufficed. It was probably the most fun I have ever had teaching a fitness class. 

It may or may not have given most of the people in my class baby fever. 

The class after mine had the "special population" of elderly. We danced oldies music the whole time; I'll be honest, I had a little bit of age envy. I'd be down with getting a velvet jumpsuit and boogieing to "Build me Up, Buttercup" any day. 

Moral of the story: You're never too old to pretend play.

Pappy La Pue

F'ATHER, n. 

 My dear father was blessed with six (perfect, might I add) daughters and no boys. It is rather self explanatory why he deserves to be recognized on Fathers day. 

My father-in-law? Well, he fathered Robert, and that is about all that needs to be said why he should be both recognized and awarded on Father's day. (Lets just say, I am a little bit nervous to have kids if they are anything like baby, toddler, and little boy Robert). 

I couldn't have asked for two more selfless, patient, forgiving, and gentle dad(s). My Father in law helped and set the example for the man that my husband is today, and my father helped me understand what kind of man I needed to marry. Needless to say, I am grateful that we have the chance to celebrate our incredible fathers. 

On a side note- my dear husband hung my London pictures, and surprised me with Mint Magnum bars this weekend. He is pretty awesome. 

Pig + happy husband = successful date

Robert and I aren't usually ones to go out to eat for some roasted pig. It's just not really our scene. BUT, we (and I really mean I) am trying to become less of a food snob (it's not my fault- but I will fully admit to it.) -unless it is a fried heart-attack-on-a-stick.

 When I was at Student Ambassadors on Thursday night a few of the other kids told me how good Blisters was. Since this was about the tenth good thing I had heard about the place, and since my Physiology professor was taking his advanced Phys. class there, I thought we could give the hole in the wall gas station a try. 

The baked beans were to die for.

Something important to know about my dear husband is that he isn't a picky eater, meaning he will eat anything that is put in front of him and say "yeah, it's good". There are a few meals he will get genuinely excited about. By few I mean about three or four. I knew this place really had to be good when Robert got excited about how good the food was.

Long story short: Blisters BBQ @ Mother Hibbards gas station was probably the best southern bbq food party my mouth has ever had. My husband liked loved it. It was cheap. win, win, win.

You should probably go.

Happy Weekend! :)