Training for the one legged hammy

My roommate and I are constantly playing games.
And no, this is not the 6-year-old I'm talking about....
-Dress-up
-Pretend
-Wrestling
-Reading stories out loud

Usually they take place just before I want to go to bed.
"Goodnight," I'll say.
"Wait!" he'll say.
"What?"
"Don't go to bed yet."
Then, before I know it, I am laughing my ass off.... heart rate soaring.... energy through the roof.
And when I say "laughing my ass off" I mean snorting, head thrown back, often times collapsing onto the bed, silent, bouncing, wheezing, 80-year-old-man laugh!
This is not conducive to falling asleep.
One night, laying sick in bed and feeling particularly bored, I called him into my room.
"Try that hat on," I said pointing to a vintage lace pillbox decorating my wall.
This set the man off into a costume parading frenzy!
Not only did he try on every hat on my wall, but every costume in his closet and mine.
He was squirreling away Halloween costumes that he had worn in high school.
I experienced everything from an afro wearing disco dude to a broad donning a green-bobbed wig (and various combos of said characters.)
And all of this from the comfort of my own bed :-)
Last night was a particularly fun game.
We called it being Rod Raymond.
For those of you who live in, or have lived in Duluth, you know the legend that is Rod. The man is a hard-bodied renaissance man who owns some sweet bars and restaurants in town, organizes music festivals and marathons and maintains one of the shaggiest, blondest mops in the city.
As part of his many ventures, he has recently put together a training guide for novice marathoners.
In it, Raymond demonstrates (in as little clothing as possible) the multitude of stretches, poses and strength training positions a runner might want to try .
So my roomie decides I ought to demonstrate many of the exercises since I didn't make it to the gym (and I had just inflated a fit-ball.)
So, with the fit-ball, about 24 inches of space in which to do the moves and limited range of motion (thanks to a recent bout of carpal-tunnel) I attempted to impersonate Raymond.
"Ok. Lay on the ground with you arms at your sides and your knees bend. Now wiggle like a snake. This ought to work your obliques," my roommate said with a giggle.
"Ok. Now lock your toes in back and bend forward. Further. Further. Go to Jerusalem! Perfect, that one is called prayer pose."
Of course I go along with it... laughing hysterically all the while.

Who's being entertained now bee-otch!

I'd say I did a pretty good job over all of "Being Rod Raymond." I think it was especially convincing that my hair looks a lot like Rod's right now.
Who knows what games my roomie and I will come up with next.
I have a feeling some of the hip-scarves from my belly-dancing days may have to make an appearance.