...so, seriously, I'm wondering if I'm a wimp.
My bicep hurts because my son and his wife and her cousin and his wife and some random friend from my son's work and my daughter-in-law's father and brother-in-law all participated in something called Tough Mudder yesterday.
Tough Mudder is a course made for ... ummm... crazy people (sssshhhh...don't tell all the aforementioned people that's what I said...I'm kinda/sorta afraid of anyone that does that much physical training) who wish to torment themselves by crawling through mud, sand, pipes and obstacles while being subjected to things like electroshock therapy.
While all this muddy, freezing, gritty, smelly torture was happening elsewhere in Arizona...
I got to babysit two Grandlittles AND A 15 month old baby!
She was soooo cute.
And she babbled and blew kisses and looked at the sky with amazement when birds and planes went overhead.
I read to her.
I sang to her.
Along with all the other assorted Grandma stuff I do with Grandlittles...playing games, talking, reading, playing games, making food, talking, making food, reading... (You know...the usual stuff)
But my littlest charge wanted to be carried.
And now, my right bicep is sore.
And I'm feeling slightly wimpy.
I didn't crawl through mud or hang from wires or wriggle through water filled pipes (I wonder if anyone ever gets stuck in those pipes...shudder...)
I didn't have electroshock therapy or get sprayed with a fire hose...
Wait a second here.
I babysat three little girls on a rainy Sunday and did all that game playing, baby carrying, feeding/talking/reading stuff for 7 1/2 hours!
Maybe I am a Tough (Grand) Mudder after all!
Except for my right bicep, that is.