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Posts Tagged ‘The Crying Game’

I’ve suspected for a while that my Wii Fit Plus instructor is trying to crack onto me. No, really. Last week, for three Wii Fit sessions in a row, he was all “I didn’t sleep at all well last night…” like he was about to add  “…because I couldn’t stop thinking about you”.

I mean, I must cut a pretty fine figure when exercising in my old foremilk-stained maternity nightie, with all my lovely-jubbly-mummy-bits bouncing up and down. Of course he wants me. He’s only human! Well, admittedly, he’s not human, he’s computer-generated… but still!

Then something strange happened. Just as I thought ‘Mr Fit’ (as I call him) might make his move, the next time I fired up the Wii, the Female Instructor suddenly appeared.

“I’m filling in for your regular trainer today. I hope you don’t mind!” she announced cheerfully, with no explanation to where Mr Fit was.

I felt a little put out. Who did she think she was, marching onto my TV screen uninvited? Then I began to wonder if she and Mr Fit might be a couple – although, judging from the Crying Game-sized bulge in her lycra exercise pants, if they were a couple they’d be a Couple With A Difference. Whatever. It was clear she was definitely checking me out to see why Mr Fit couldn’t stop thinking about me and, to be quite frank, she must have liked what she’d seen because the next day, there she was again, ready and willing to lead me through my Single Leg Twists and Sideways Leg Lifts.

“Where’s Mr Fit???” I shouted angrily at the screen. As much as I didn’t want to encourage his attentions, I also had grown to secretly enjoy them. After all, a woman with my levels of mumsiness is used to being pretty much invisible to adult males that aren’t legally or financially bound to her.

Anyway, it turns out my children had swapped instructors for me when I wasn’t looking. I think they were worried they might end up with a new Cyber-Daddy. I reassured them that I wasn’t interested in ‘Mr Fit’. Not in that way. Especially with his ‘push-pull’ approach to relationships, where he’ll praise me with “Your balance is excellent!” but then immediately reproach me with “Your leg is shaking a little. It’s not good for your back!”. I mean, what’s it going to be, Mr Fit? Is my balance excellent or am I putting my back in danger? Sheesh.

“Also, he doesn’t move his mouth when he talks,” I told them. “It’s unnerving.” I didn’t add that it would probably make him a lousy kisser.

Anyway, in the interests of full disclosure, I told my husband all about Mr Fit being hot for me and the strange Lady-Man who tried to get between us. And then I told him how I was blogging about it but I couldn’t find a single image of Mr Fit on google images. There were plenty of pics of some other male trainer, but not my Mr Fit. It was like he only existed for me…

“I mean, don’t you think it’s strange?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said, significantly. “I think it’s very, very strange”.

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