Writies

When Fitness Boot Camp Goes Wrong: My Wife Beat the Sh*t Out of Me

We're more than happy to submit to your will.

We’re more than happy to submit to your will.

When I think about what celebrity couple would closely resemble my marriage, (a) I  never thought it would be Ike and Tina Turner and (b) if it did, I never thought I would relate more to Tina. But a few weeks ago something happened that added evidence to the fact that I am, indeed, a battered husband. [Maybe I should start a brother website called “Battered Model Husband”?]

We have a history of play fighting that sometimes gets a bit too physical. As I’ve written in a previous post, it was unsettling when I woke up with pain in my right eye socket. Although I can’t confirm my wife punched me in the eye while I was asleep, I also can’t rule her out. Recently, things  went to an entirely new level when my wife managed to dislocate my thumb with, what she calls, the slightest of efforts.

To understand the gravity of this situation, you have to understand that my wife and I can best be described as “petite” individuals (even though I hate using that term to describe myself). I’m 5’10” and about 160 lbs. She’s [redacted*] and [redacted*], and a petite individual (but with some athletic muscle).  She’s also been attending boot camp fitness classes, which are notorious for helping people get lean and build strength.

But as I was joking (and enviously admiring) her toned abdominal muscles, I guess she’d decided she’d assert her newly acquired strength on my poor opposable thumb (which is actually more agreeable than it is opposable).

With ninja-like skill, she “accidentally” bent my thumb back to where my fingers were pointed away from my body, but my thumb was (horrifyingly) staring right back at me.

Even though I’m a rather “petite” man, I’m still no weakling. I may be running a lot of miles (and unfortunately skipping out on the weight training) right now, but I haven’t lost that much muscle mass that my wife should be able to kick my ass with minimal effort.

Or maybe she’s slowly becoming one of those Amazon women. Not the ones that work for Amazon.com, but those women that wear next to nothing and have physiques that closely resemble those of a man. If that’s the case, my penis may enjoy her transformation** but the rest of my body will probably lament it, especially the first time she “accidentally” breaks a rib or two during sex***.

I promised my wife that I’d write this post when she dislocated my thumb last night. But considering my wife will probably break my hands for writing this, I guess it’ll be some time before I’m physically able to post again. Hey Ethan, what’s the policy on worker’s compensation? Do we have health insurance yet? Can I at least get one of those Stephen Hawking-like computers so I can continue to write with two mangled hands?

*Redacted because I don’t want the other thumb dislocated/broken because I disclosed her height and approximate weight.

**You, as the reader, may be confused as to the author’s sexual orientation. The author would like to assure you, he’s just as confused as you are.

*** Hopefully I’ll still be the one on the giving end of the “dicking” and not the receiving end.

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