Dear Mike

Dear Mike,

Many moons ago you bought me this:



And I swore I would use it faithfully. And I got on it that very first week.

For one whole minute.

After awhile it began to collect dust in the corner of the living room. That is until you tripped over it when your leg was broken.

Then it began to collect dust in the boy's room.

I swore I'd use it more when I moved it, because now I could exercise AND spend quality time with my son.

But his room smells like a whole lot of feet.

So it collected more dust.

Today the boy and I drug it back out to the living room because your leg isn't broken anymore.

And as if dragging it across the house weren't work out enough, I actually used the damned thing. It hurt like hell, and I loved every (counted) second of it.

So I know this is late coming, but thank you for my work-out thingamabob.

Love,
Your sweaty, tired, and very proud wife.

This is Funky, and that is all.