Pump up the jam.

I have said the phrase, “pump up the jam” approximately 30 times tonight while Chris and I searched for the pump to my exercise ball.

Me: Chris, I just need to pump up the jam.

Chris: I know you do.

Me: Do you know why I need to pump up the jam?

Chris: To get your pump on?

Me: Yes.

This a window into our lives. We have a lot of similar conversations. We are giant nerds, basically.

Anyway, we can’t find the pump although we both swear to have seen it recently. Quincy probably carried it off somewhere and hid it. As I wrote that sentence, I witnessed her picking up my shoe and hiding it underneath the dining room table. So my theory isn’t too far fetched.

I managed to do 100 crunches and 30 minutes of dance cardio tonight anyway. The dance moves were really hard, and I found myself doing the booty pop thing instead of the Step Up 3D pop and lock moves. Eh, I’m sure I still burned some calories.

I like how she’s wearing a fanny pack while pumping up the jam. In case she needs a snack or something. And would it kill them to smile a little? So serious about their jam pumping.


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