This morning I chose a workout that involved a lot of floor time. A lot! Well, I tell you what, those canine girls of mine decided they were not only going to be my personal trainers, but they were going to get a serious workout of their own done, too.
Here's how they saw it:
- pushup = great opportunity to gnaw on mom's wrists and ankles so she knows exactly where to put them
- side plank = great opportunity to flop directly on mom's mat blocking her from taking the break she really wants to have
- downward dog = "Hey!!! Lookie!!! Mom's a tunnel...wheeeeeeee!"
- squats = see downward dog
- burpees = great opportunity to wrestle in front of her, behind her, beside her...on top of her...dawgs need a workout, too
- getting a drink = "I call mom's mat!"
This went on for a solid hour. Did I say to myself over and over, "I should put these darn dogs out!"? You bet I did. Did I ever bother to actually do it? Nope. Why not? Because lyrics were bouncing around in my brain and keeping this girl entertained and happy.
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, yeah
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, yeah
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, yeah
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, yeah, yeah
Do the wiggle, dawg
I do the wiggle, dawg
Yeah...
...I'm fuzzy and I know it!
...We work out!
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