Daddypult 

On Mother’s Ssy, my son and I got to clowning around. My wife was out visiting friends, so it was just the two of us. Naturally, we wrestled. And by “wrestled” I meant “I got to n hands and knees on my bed while he jumped in me”. That sort of thing.

At one point I grabbed him, curled him over my head, and rolled backwards to slam him on the bed. I may have shouted “Daddy Super-Atomic Back-Breajer” as well, since I was huge into pro wrestling as a teenager. His response, in true six-year-old fashion, was “again!”

So I did it again.

And again.

And again.

I don’t know exactly how many times we did this ridiculous thing, although my son tried to commit me to doing it “one hundred one million” times. I know I didn’t manage that many.

So what’s this got to do with anything?  Just this:  my personal trainer says that play is often the best exercise. It makes you get out and work a bunch of muscles and do aerobic conditioning, all at once. 

After an hour of slinging my 60 pound son over my head like a catapult, I’m inclined to agree.

Oh, and I lost 3.2 pounds last week!  Yay me!

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