The dangers of teaching Pilates!

Hi,

I just have to blog on this one!

Bob is teaching the Pilates class tonight while I keep house, feed the Ravening Hordes, do the company accounts (bleahh!) and supposedly write an ezine article.
That's the cunning plan, anyway. But he's just phoned from the gym, spluttering with indignation, and when I stop shrieking with laughter I'll explain why:-

He goes straight from working to the gym - he's such a good little sausage. Every day I pack his bag with a full set of clean gym gear to teach in (matching of course; he's such a fop. Asks his classes if his bum looks big in this set of togs; it's a good job they're used to him!)

In the UK you can buy boxer shorts for both men and women; it solves our age-old girly problem of VPL without having to resort to the torture of wearing a thong.

You can guess what's coming, can't you?

In the early morning rush of getting ready, I'd packed him the wrong boxers. He hadn't realised until he tried to put them on in a changing room full of blokes!
My girl-boxers have scalloped legs and cute little buttons on the front - and they're one hell of a lot smaller than his boy-boxers.

I leave the visual to you…but can you imagine the looks he got from the other blokes?!
Well, I'm afraid that instead of being apologetic, I fell off my chair laughing and dared him to tell his Pilates class that he was teaching wearing his wife's knickers.

He was not amused.
Oops :)

All the best,

Carol J Bartram

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