Walking in the Water

We started walking in the mornings because the kids were worried about getting out of shape. Or, rather, worried about me getting out of shape. They're teenagers.  By definition, they're in good shape. Young.  Hale. Hearty.  On the other hand, I'm old and falling apart.

Oh, I'm in shape, of course.  Because round is a shape, right?

So the conversation goes like this:

"Dad, you need to walk more.  You're getting fat."

"It's not fat.  It's middle-age spread."

"If that's a spread, it's definitely got high-fat content."

"I'll start riding my bike to work. It'll burn off in no time."

"Dad, you haven't touched your bike all summer. You haven't exercised at all. You sit at a desk all day, eating snacks. It's starting to show."

Sigh.

"OK, so we'll walk."

And we do.  Every morning (or nearly so).  Bright and early at seven o'clock, we head out the door, taking turns on being the "Leader", going around the neighborhood to see what can be seen.  Sometimes we don't see anyone else.  Sometimes we see lots of other early-risers.  Most mornings we see bunny rabbits and squirrels and other random animals.

This morning, we saw the sprinklers on.  Some of us avoided them. Some of us walked right on through.

Thanks, Mary!