Me, I want a hula hoop

So here’s the thing: if you are trying to cut back on unnecessary consumption, and you decide on the third rainy, dreary day in a row to run to the mall to pick up some Father’s Day cards and also some teacher appreciation gifts, do NOT under any circumstances just “pop in” to Lululemon to “just look” because that “just looking” will lead to finding Tiffany blue yoga pants, and purchasing another pair of yoga pants is completely frivolous and unnecessary, but oh, look, they are TIFFANY BLUE and there is also a MATCHING HEADBAND and you have a yoga weekend workshop coming up in two days and aren’t they pretty? The next thing you know you will be leaving the mall with a bag full of cards, gift certificates, chocolate shaped apples, and a completely unnecessary yoga outfit, because you will inevitably find a top that goes with those pants, even though you were “just looking”.

Sigh.

Speaking of unnecessary consumption, the other day I was running errands and found myself at Wal-Mart. I know what you’re thinking: Wal-Mart, with its predatory pricing and suspicious business ethics and labour policies, but honestly, it’s a great place to stock up on shampoo and Kleenex. It’s also, apparently, a great place to buy hula hoops.

I may not be able to run very fast, and I may scream with terror and duck whenever a ball is thrown in my direction, and I cannot and have never been able to turn a cartwheel, but hoo boy, can I hula hoop. I can keep that baby going for a long time, and I can even do my childhood trick of starting the hoop at my waist,

keep it going on my knees,

and then skipping with it on my ankle.

The trouble with this youthful behaviour is that spinning a hula hoop on your legs and knees, when you have massive, bulging varicose veins leads to massive, purple bruises all over said veins. It’s just as attractive as it sounds. Sigh.