Last week, B and I went together to stability ball class.
Between us there was a lot of goofiness, as usual. We’ve graduated from the days of trying to kick one another during yoga classes. Now we’re up to things like me pushing him off his stability ball and him lassoing me with a jump rope. The instructor seemed to be a bit jumping-jack-happy this evening, so when the routine started to bore him B decided to step up the humor a bit.
“Look, honey!” he said between jacks, “I’m an Afghan soldier!”
Then he started hopping and flailing his arms.
I hadn’t heard his description of what he was doing, so I didn’t completely understand the crazy movements that followed. It was still hilarious-looking, so of course I laughed, but it wasn’t until we were back on the floor doing push-ups when I finally got what he’d said earlier. THEN I busted out laughing ridiculously hard and fell off my stability ball.