Sistah Pat

Sorry, Chicklets.  That’s what my DH seems to be.  He’s making everything so difficult it’s causing everything to be more work that it would be without him.  I’m going to give him another week or so to get on board and, if he doesn’t get his act together, I’m just going to leave him in the dust.

I got him to walk in the pool Monday.  Not jog…walk… Still, I figured that was better than nothing.  I ran laps for 15 minutes and he walked for 15 minutes.  I had planned a nice pasta salad with tuna, fresh tomatoes, dill, lite mayo, red peppers, red onion, a lite vineagrette and feta cheese.  He added two bologna sandwiches to it.  Are you kidding me?  I couldn’t believe it.  I said, “Donnie, why are you making bologna sandwiches?  That stuff is nothing but fat.”  He countered with, “What’s the problem?  I didn’t even fry the bologna.” 

Like that makes it okay.  Still, I kept my cool and figured I’d focus on the positive.  He did walk in the pool.

Yesterday, I worked all day, went home, and he started in….”I’m telling you right now…I’m tired, I had a rough day, it’s rainy and I’m not getting in the pool.  I stopped by Subway on the way home, got you a cold-cut combo with lettuce, tomato and jalapeno.”

He got himself a cold cut combo with double meat, all the toppings (including cheese) and double oil and vinegar dressing.

I wheedled and cajoled to get him to walk, swim, do anything resembling exercise and the end result was that he made me so irritated that I didn’t even feel like exercising.  Not exactly the kind of teamwork/inspiration/companionship I had in mind for this healthy living adventure.

It’s stormy today.  Been pouring rain since before dawn.  I need to think about what kind of exercise might be acceptable to him and plan a dinner that doesn’t need bologna sandwich sides to make it work.