Momnesia

Fun in a bottle

"So, what's up with the cleanse your husband is doing?" I ask a friend.

This friend's husband is a world-class athlete. He eats healthy, exercises religiously and inspires others (but, uh, not me) to get in shape and do crazy stuff like Ironman. Not me. I swam when I was younger and fenced in college. But the former was 100 years ago, and the latter was - well, there might have been a boy involved.

"I don't know. He does crazy stuff all the time - weird diets," she says. "I'm like, 'You, of all people, should know better.'"

"It's probably to do with him being an athlete; pushing the limits of his body," I guess.

"Probably," she muses.

"I just want to push my body up to a bar," I joke.

She laughs: "Yum!"

"I don't want to push my body's limits. I don't want to push it down the street really fast. Master cleanse? No fun. Vodka? Fun in a bottle."

I wonder if my once-a-year evening to imbibe is coming up soon... I could use it.