Happy wife, happy life?  Or “How exercise is going to kill me.”

My wife is forcing me to become more active.  Ugh.  She absconded my cellphone and proceeded to set up a new Fitbit for me- while I was napping.  Her excitement about this new device for me is uncontrollable.  She woke me from my nap and told me to go weigh myself.  I haven’t stepped on a scale in months.  I don’t think of myself as unhealthy, all I have is just a little beer gut.  It’s called a “Dad Bod” all the celebrities are rocking it.

Exercise? You mean punishment.


I have never devoted time to exercise.  My wife wants to challenge me to walking goals and stair climbing.  This may not end well for me…  I walk where I need to get to and go up or down stairs as required.  I am afraid that I will be aimlessly wandering my home because my wife will think my step count needs to be in the tens of thousands!  Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Pie chart truths of Mario Kart.


My wife is very competitive as well. These step count goal are sure to lead to some cruel taunting-as if going on forced marches up and down the stairs won’t be bad enough.  I may have to get sneaky and turn on Mario Kart to get her to sit her butt down.  She knows she can beat me at that game, so if I get a few rounds started then get up to leave, I should be able to nap again.  Our kids will gladly play that game and keep the exercise drill sergeant occupied for me.


Maybe I’m just being paranoid.  Maybe I’ll find some value in seeing how active I really am in my daily routine.  Plus, if someone actually calls me (who makes phone calls anymore?) my wrist will display their name.  So that’s kinda cool.  We’ll see how this turns out.  A bit more of a focus on being active won’t kill me.  I can forgo a nap or two each day.  But, I’m worried my deep fryer is next to go…

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