Okay, so we went for half of the class. We left because my tummy started to hurt. I don't know if it was the class or the pizza rolls I had for lunch. But we did practice our breathing: he he he hoo. he he he hoo. I was practicing it at home on the couch and Juan told me to be quiet, he couldn't hear the game! Quite the man I married!!
P.S. Not that the game was worth hearing! I'm getting sick of all this LOSING. I promised the Kings that if they won a championship I'd name my first born son Michael Bibby Valdes. (Juan doesn't know about this). Funny thing is, it doesn't seem like they care, cause they LOSE anyway. Doesn't a promise mean anything anymore?
Lilypie Fifth Birthday tickers
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