soft in the middle?
Back when I was a stripling fresh out of school, I was warned of the Married Guy Tummy. Not directly, of course. Just in passing: “Oh, yeah, so-and-so got hitched and had a kid and got the Married Guy Tummy.”
The implication was that domesticity automatically softens the midriff. Good thing the whole idea is a bunch of crap.
See, here’s the deal. Dads, if you get a baby paunch, you’re doing something wrong. Here’s just a sampler of the exercises that you’ll give you rock hard tasty abs, washerboard style, whether you want them or not:
- Clutching a twelve-pound screaming infant to your chest while doing endless desperate sit-ups in a row to try to soothe her back to sleep.
- Helping Mommy out by biking Big Sister to school in the mornings, then hauling the empty trailer back home, then biking to work as usual.
- Doing the grocery shopping and the child supervision at the same time by hauling a hundred pounds of giggling kids and twenty pounds of groceries over nine miles of Washington County’s hills.