So there I was, innocently being creepy and watching my big brother working out in his personal little mancave gym. My arms were crossed, and I was leaning against the doorframe, just standing there and thinking a million miles an hour (as usual) about Nephilim: Prisoner (book two of the Nephilim heptalogy and my current work in progress). I’ve given myself until the end of the month to finish it, and there are so many things I need to add thanks to my recently released Exitium Mundi series… I was watching him, but not watching him. If that makes any sense. I was more deep in thought than anything else.
Anyway, out of nowhere, he goes, “Come get some,” in that slight country twang of his.
My initial reaction was to raise my eyebrows. See, my mind is *way too corrupted* by the internet, but I know he isn’t like that, so I just laughed and asked what he meant. Here’s how the conversation went down.
“The weights. Don’t just stand there, put em to use.”
“I don’t lift weights. I do cardio. Running and calisthenics. You know that.”
“And? Get your dainty ass over here and give it a try.”
Now see, my big brother knows one of the ways to get under my skin is to make fun of my diminutive size. I get little woman syndrome. 😅 I’m not even that short – I’m 5’0, 100lbs! Not exactly tiny. I’m huge. Practically a monster compared to most five-year-olds.
So I gangsta-strolled over to the weights and told him to bring it. Mind you, I wasn’t even dressed to work out: I was wearing a baggy cookie monster shirt and light green man boxers (so comfortable, don’t judge me). The first thing I approached was his deadlifts. After calculating all the weight he had on that thing (five times my body weight!), I quickly gave up on that option. So I went looking around for something a bit more realistic.
He ended up having to adjust the weights on this weird monstrous contraption he was sitting at just so I could make it rattle. 😅
I am not a weightlifter.
But I wasn’t about to just let him one-up me. So I challenged him to a dance-off using Just Dance 2019 on my Switch. I’ve never once seen him dance, so I felt confidant in this (even though Anne tells me I dance like a drunk white girl having an epileptic seizure in a full body cast). (Bitch.)
In the end?
I smoked his ass. It was so much fun, too, especially watching him struggle through the more feminine moves. I almost peed myself. 😭
I also realized halfway through his dance-murdering that it had been forever since we spent time together like that. I mean, thanks to the lockdown situation, we’ve spent a lot of time together, yes, but we were both kind of doing our own things, not truly enjoying each other’s company. That’s going to have to change. We have such a rare opportunity here to be all up in each other’s business, and we’ve been kind of wasting it. I mean, he’s the most important person in the world to me, and I can probably count on one hand the number of hours we’ve actually spent together together.
The pandemic is horrible, yes, but it’s given us a once in a lifetime opportunity.
So tonight? I’m kidnapping his ass for some movie watching: a supernatural horror flick a friend of mine hipped me up to called V/H/S. It’s supposed to be scarier than Anne’s hair when she wakes up in the morning, so I’m really looking forward to it.
What about you? Have you been fully taking advantage of this lockdown by spending time with the people that mean the most to you? What have you done? I’m really curious. Let a hood rat know!
💡 The More You Know 💡
Mrs. Caroline Squires of Cincinnati filed for a divorce from her husband in 1949 on grounds of desertion. She testified he’d stepped out “for a beer” on the Fourth of July 1917, and had never come back.
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