the pressure, the pressure

Slice wants me to post a post right now, so here I am.  Gosh he is demanding.  Did you know that?

For example: for my birthday in August he bought me a bunch of workout clothes - and proceeded to pressure me to go "work out" all the time.  That was after three months of asking things like "So...do you want a jogging stroller?" and signing me up for a year's membership at a gym.
I don't even believe in gyms.
(Really, you pay money to go sweat?  Can't you find more useful ways to do that at home/work/the neighbor widow's house? If not, your life must be lacking.)

Anyway.

Now for Christmas Slice bought me a real water bottle and an iPod nano with a workout mix already on it.  You see why I'm feeling it?

(And lest you think I am just delighting in postpartum fatness, let me tell you that I lost most of my baby weight within six weeks of childbirth.  There were a couple extra pounds -namely, three- which multiplied during the stress of October/November, but they're going away now.  So it's not a weight issue.)

Demanding, I tell you.
There's your post.