The backstory: Summer's relaxed schedule has taken hold around here but the other day I decided to get in my workout before heading off to swimming lessons. We leave for swimming lessons at 10:30, so that wasn't exactly a tall order. Around 9 am, just as a certain young man in pajamas was ready to consider his breakfast options, I headed upstairs to put on my workout clothes. When I came back downstairs, we had a conversation as the boy slouched in front of the telly, armed with a Pop Tart (yes, I'm one of those mamas):
Mama: I'm working out now.
JT: It's 9:15; you'd better hop to it. No slacking, Mama.
Who's the slacker now?