Flying Solo is a few years older than me. Stuck in my crusty old ways and proud of it, I've teased her about her internet yoga classes for years, sometimes with a bit of a dismissive scoff. "Get some real excercise." That sort of thing.
The other day, I walked in on her as she was curled-up and cross-legged like a little ball on the bathroom vanity happy as a clam cutting her toe nails in the sink. I'm too stiff to even climb up on the darn thing with a step stool!
Fortunately, it doesn't seem to have much to do with breathing or any Aladin's Lamp type diety. So I figured it must have something to do with all those long, exaggerated stretched-out syllables l overhear the instructor saying whenever I eavesdrop.
Then there's the cat who stretches every time he gets up from doing his cozy cubby yoga.
(Not to be construed as an endorsement of certain other posts in this thread.)
