This morning Byron and I sat in bed with our cup of early morning tea. We like to sit in bed and chat and pray for people who are on our minds.
Today as Byron lifted the cup to his lips he groaned and rested it part way up. "What's wrong?" I asked.
Well, he and the boys have been "Superman-ing." That's what they call lifting weights in the garage together. They go down there to "Superman." It's been a while but now that Jesse is home, they're back at it. And Byron was too sore this morning to lift his tea cup.
Byron is 46. Must be tough having sons who are 19, 16 and 12 to keep up with.
But my dues will come. When Heather is 17, slim, wrinkle-free and full of energy, fashion and pop-culture awareness, I'll be 53!
I didn't laugh at Byron's sore arms. I'm going to want his sympathy in ten years time.
3 comments:
19, 16, 12, and 7!?! Did I read incorrectly? How can that be...
Just the other day I was zipping down the hall on a razor scooter that was all the rage with these American boys visiting Holland...and...racing through the forest on a bike, scared out of my wits at the stunts this 10 year old boy was doing that I had to follow in order to keep up...and...feeding a little 18 month old girl on my lap during dinner...wow!
Seems like yesterday...
I miss the Bordens.
let me just add to that in dads defence that i was so sore i hurt without moving!
but jesse's soreness sure didn't affect his golf swing two days later.
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