We spent the weekend on the couch, watching the Olympics.
Oh yeah. Us. The nerds. The ones who's eyes glaze over when someone mentions a ball. Any ball. If a ball is involved, we're bored. Please do not mention balls to us unless you want us to roll our eyes, glaze them over and eventually fake a seizure. Or start talking Star Wars. We're good at both.
I became a screamer. No, wait. A SCREAMER. Yeah, that's better. I screamed and screamed. Screamed at one of the Women's Volleyball teams for consistently serving the ball (ball! I'm talking about a ball!) over the back line. Screamed at Phelps to GO! GO! GO! Screamed at the men's row team to GET YOUR ASS IN GEAR! And did you know? When they row? Their seats actually move like that fake doohicky does in the gym? I DID NOT KNOW THAT. It's like, real.
And, due to my extreme guilt of being a lazy ass and spending all my time on the couch, I practiced my split stitch.
Aaron: "What the hell are you doing?"
Aaron: "Why? Oh, wait. I know why. SO YOU CAN POST IT ON YOUR BLOG"
Laura: "Nuh-uh. I need to practice my split stitch."
Aaron: "And so you can post it on your blog."
Laura: "Well, shit, Aaron. I have to have something to show for my weekend. How about you?"
Aaron: "Please. My awesomeness is accomplishment enough."