Conversation

I think I’ve mentioned before that my Pilates instructor’s husband comes to our class even though he’s not remotely up to standard.

If it weren’t for that, and the lack of spatial awareness, I wouldn’t mind, but he also has a habit of turning up about fifteen minutes late, presumably because he was held up at work, which is just rude.

Well, tonight when he arrived a distinct whiff of Parmesan cheesiness came with him. It got worse when he decided to take his socks off.

Bleh.

(I also observe that, from brief observations and the amount of time she spends correcting him*, he has actually been getting worse in the time since I’ve been going there. Coff. Sorry love, I’m afraid that is a waste of time trying to out-do the woman twice your age who’s better than you will ever be on account of basic biology and I’ve been doing it since you were in nappies.)

*To be fair, she always goes to help him last after watching and speaking to the rest of the class.