Katie

Katie spent some time last weekend building a gym in our basement. It was a modest amount of construction; just setting up an area to work out, with her as personal trainer. There was a (low) balance beam, mats for yoga and somersaults and cartwheels, and another area with a giant exercise ball. And of course a cashier, where we dutifully paid our $1 fees.

I think her signs were the best part."Kate's workout sessions! Come see me!" "Free notepads!" "Free massage!" And my favorite: "I help get workout-y muscles!" She had another welcoming pets, which incorporated the reality that we keep Riley's crate and some of her chew toys downstairs: "You think I don't have dog toys and cages?" read the sign. "Yeah I do!"

I'm a healthy guy, so I signed up for a session. Kate texted me when it was my turn (way more professional than yelling through the house). I went downstairs, paid my $1, and she walked me through a bunch of exercises. She was very encouraging at the things I couldn't do: touching my toes, somersaults, balancing on the balance beam. She had a natural ability to make me feel OK about my athletic limitations. Yoga was the best part. As we finished each exercise, she said, "Good!" and breezed us along to the next one.

At the end, I got a free hand massage. This involved sticking my hand in a bucket of plastic art beads. Very soothing! I also got a free notepad (as promised!) which I believe was already mine, but that's OK.

Put Kate to bed that night. We sat in my room, at opposite ends of the bed, each with a pillow up. Kate said, "Do teacher reading." She explained that this was when the teacher would read a page, then hold up the book so the class could see the pictures. So that's what I did. Teacher reading. Then it was bedtime, and I kissed her goodnight and put her to bed.