Don’t ask me what I was thinking when I pushed the Carmen Electra Aerobic Striptease DVD into the DVD player and pushed play. Apparently I am a true masochist hell bent on humiliating myself in the hopes of earning a fit body and and healthy mind (her claim, not mine). I’m willing to try anything once, in the privacy of my living room, if it means I will fit into my pre-pregnancy pants again. I’ll even attempt staring into the eyes of Carmen Electra while she dances in knee socks and clothes that my daughter wouldn’t be caught dead in. At 21 months old my daughter already considers herself far too mature for pigtails and shorts so small they might as well be diapers.
It all started with a visit to my sister’s house. My sister is one of those amazing people that always seems to have exactly what you need at the exact moment you need it. If she carried a big purse she’d be the one that has a tissue, a piece of gum, pepper spray, cat food, or a copy of “War And Peace” the moment you articulated your desire to posses said item. She has a sixth sense or a magical intuition about these things. Sometimes she even has what I need before I even know I need it. For example, while at her house last week, I casually mentioned wanting to drop a few pounds. She handed me a workout video (I tossed it into the backseat of my car). That same day I mentioned I was looking for a grammar book because my blog seriously lacks punctuation as you may or may not have noticed. Of course, she just shrugged and said, “I have one in my car if you want to borrow it.” Who carries around a grammar book? My sister that’s who. She is awesome. She’s got psychic yard sale powers that any thrift store junkie would die for.
So, I get to my mom’s house after visiting my sister and pull out the video. I was seriously disturbed when I read the title. Oh no. I showed it to my mom and she looked at me and said, “Do you need a pole to do that?” Oh no. I call Jim and tell him about the video. He says, “Sounds like you need a pole to do that.”
Oh no oh no oh no.
So, I drive back to my sisters house and ask, “DO I need a pole to do this?” She tells me, “Not for that one.” Still, Oh no! What kind of world is this and how did I get lost in it?! I’m no pole dancer. I can’t even dance on the ground. I was born with two left feet, two left hands and with the grace and balance of a hippopotamus doing piroutte’s with a rhinoceros. No matter what happened I knew this wasn’t going to be pretty. In fact, I was confident my strip tease workout days had disaster written all over them.
After putting on my workout attire (a red shirt with a giant crab on it that says, “Leave me alone. I’m crabby” and green fleece pants that were seriously in need of a good vacuuming) I put the video on and started the warm up exercises. After about three minutes I realized I was being seduced by Carmen Electra AND, most importantly, that I really sucked at striptease type stuff. It’s like I have extra arms and legs. I can’t bend in the right places and it’s obvious why I never became a dancer of any kind, ever, not even once or for a minute. I’m even bad at square dancing.
Just as I was thanking the universe and my lucky stars that my living room never had full length mirrors installed on the walls my husband walked in and sees me standing there staring at the TV with my mouth open and a look of horror on my face. “What are you watching? Is this for men?” I told him it’s a work out video for women. He watches for a minute and says, “It looks like porn, but with clothes on.” Then my daughter walked in yelling, “Ewwwww!” I am not sure if she was talking about me or Carmen Electra. At this point it would have been appropriate either way. Then, my daughter started doing squats and counting 5, 6… right along with the video. She even laughed after Carmen Electra explained the importance of using your hands through nervous cheerleader like giggling (even Carmen Electra seemed to find her work-out video embarrassing).
It was disturbing to see that my 21 month old had better moves than I did. While I was contorted into a pretzel-like pose she was prancing in step to the music. The best part was when my daughter ran to the DVD player and pushed the eject button. “All gone,” she said and just like that my torture ended. It was too embarrassing and like Jim said, “That video doesn’t fit your personality. You’re too private for that kind of workout.” Yeah, I’m too private for that kind of workout, but not too private to blog about it.