I hid it on the top shelf behind two dirty rags and a box marked ‘weights & stuff.’ Tonight, nothing was coming between me and Property Brothers. Before long, however, my guilty conscious started screaming and I turned myself in: I stopped the treadmill and handed Jon the remote.
We’re that sickly-sweet couple that runs side-by-side on the treadmill and yells things like ‘race you’ and ‘keep going’ while offering up high-fives. The gym routine is all cake-and-cream, but it becomes complicated when we’re sharing a TV screen.
Jon wants to watch baseball or the news, and I want to watch Property Brothers or Top Chef. Most times we debate back-and-forth until one of us gives in (I’ll let you shower first if …..) but Jon was late to the gym tonight and it occurred to me that we could skip the debate if the remote went missing….
Sweet Jon checked all the bikes and treadmills and stair-masters when he arrived at the gym. Defeated, he told me that the remote was missing and we’d have to watch whatever was already on (Rehab Addict). His whole search took about 10 seconds, but I felt guilty and told him to look on top of the bookcase behind the rags. Jon grabbed the remote, smiled, and put on the Brewers vs. Pirates game.
Before he started running, Jon did Zoolander-type stretches that made me laugh so hard I almost fell off my treadmill. No one else makes me laugh that way — the ‘lose control and grab your side and hope you don’t snort’ kinda way — and I realized that he could have the remote forever. I like him that much.