I'm a Floozie, Not a Koozie

I was born with an allergy to exercise. It's sad, but true. Throughout my life I have dealt with this and it has been quite severe at times -- flair ups occurred quite regularly in middle school gym class. Exercise and strenuous activity cause horrible side affects in me ... like sweat and heavy breathing. I know, it truly is awful. It is a cross I must bear.


But over the years I have found things that help, like sun and ocean and fruity drinks. So I have come to replace this sensitivity I have to exercise with the finer things in like -- like screw cap wine. Please don't judge. Cause if lovin Cupcake is wrong, I think none of us wanna be right.

But IJ pushes me. And while we were on vaca he rented bikes. Bikes. Yes, you heard me --BIKES! And I gently reminded him -- we have a car. And air conditioning. And we no longer have to wear overalls and plow the back forty. Just sayin...

But he rolled his eyes at me and cracked his whip and yelled MUSH MUSH!

My spawn looked at him and said, "Papa, the children in the next village speak of play. Papa, what is play?"

But then after hours and hours of toil and burn, this is how our task master collapses.
And as his indentured servant, I become a human koozie.

I gasp in shame. I want to be his FLOOZIE not his KOOZIE.