Ass Peas

My right leg has been steadily tightening since I started with my running group, so after tonight's hill workout I decided to be kind to it and ice it down. I walked in the front door and through the house to the kitchen, where Blair had dinner waiting. I grabbed the one ice-pack we own out of the freezer, along with a bag of frozen peas. I put the ice-pack under my knee and slid the frozen peas under my right buttock. We ate dinner and chatted about our day.

After dinner, I carried the bag of peas to the freezer.

"What are you doing with those?" asked Blair. 

"Putting them back in the freezer," I replied. 

"Ass peas? You're putting ass peas back in the freezer??"

"Are you kidding me with this?" I asked. "It's not like any of the food actually touched my body. There is a plastic barrier between us."

Blair made a face and shuddered.

"How about this," I offered. "We'll save the ass peas for guests. They'll never know."

He brightened. "Brilliant. I love it."

So dear blog readers, don't say you weren't warned. If you come to our house and we serve you peas, I would think twice before I ate them. 

And as my runs pick up, you might want to reconsider the frozen cauliflower and broccoli florets, too. Cheers.