How to Take Yoga Lessons From Your Pussy

I bust my ass (quite literally) in hot yoga a few times a week. I strategically avoid knocking down my neighbor, trying to perfect a head stand (while secretly hoping no other drop of sweat but my own hits my mat -eeeeeeww!).  When I get antsy and know that my sweaty leg will no doubt hit some poor soul’s head, I wait until I get home to show off for Ted.

Last night after class, I came home to perfect my tri-pod head stand. Little did I know I had my own yoga master under my own roof. While I was showing Mr. Bear my moves, he yawned, made eye contact with me, holding my gaze and slid his back leg up through his two front paws. WTF?!

That's all you can do?

That’s all you can do?

Then when I asked him how in the hell he did the pose, he stretched even further by laying his head down on all three limbs. BITCH! I can barely get my forehead to my knee (he obviously doesn’t get his flexibility from me).

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I’m too tired and you’re too obnoxious to show you my tricks.

When I pleaded with this show off one more time, he simply opened his eyes (I actually think I saw Teddy roll his eyes at me. AT ME!), yawned like a lion and took a nap.

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I can even do this with my eyes shut. Duh.

So there’s how you get your cat to teach you yoga. You don’t.

But this has earned Ted a new nickname – Yogi Bear-a – it’s all he’d answer to last night. Diva!

CBXB

CBXB!