The other day Fluffy Bear was recovering from a punch in the face at the dentist and I saw Silent Evil on my own.
She set up a routine of exercises, like she normally does, which included squats in front of a soft ball. This ball was lower than the benches and plastic balls I had done squats in front of in the past. So it meant I had to really lean back and get my butt down there to touch it. Still, when I saw it, I thought 'I can do this!'
"Blimfy squats," she said.
"Twenty?" I asked, sure that was what she'd said.
"Thirty," she whispered.
"THIRTY?!?"
But it's pointless arguing with her. She just keeps talking quietly, looks you in the eye and, somehow, with her 100ish pounds, manages to look very, very scary.
Thirty squats it was.
We continued with the sequence of exercises, then she gave me a two minute break. Then we started again.
I don't know why I thought it would be different on the second round. But I did. But - Nope! - thirty squats.
By twenty I had to rest. On number 26 I barely made it back up to a standing position.
And then she started me on a third round of the sequence. Through my tired and sweaty fog, I begain to realize what this meant - ninety squats during the course of this workout.
On the last set, number 20 nearly got me. I leaned sideways and remembered to tighten my core just in time. The last ten took, it seemed, forever.
But I got through them!
On the way home, I began to think about the whole workout, and realized that, if you count the ten warmup squats we do, that made for a nice round number.
Fluffy Bear opened the front door to me as I - slowly - climbed the steps to our front porch.
"ONE HUNDRED SQUATS!" I yelled at him.
"ONE HUNDRED!"
He made me a cup of tea. Cures anything, a cup of tea.