‘Twas the night before the weekend, and all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, except for my spouse.

His compression socks were hung on the towel rod with care

In hopes that gloom soon would be there;

His F3 shirt laid out, oh so neatly pressed

Teenaged girls don’t take as long to get dressed.

He finally came to bed. “Would he be the man that I need?”

Nope! He just got busy with his copy of “Freed to Lead”

Then at 0430 there arose such a clatter,

I rolled over an muttered, “What the hell is the matter?!”

All I could see was his disgusting plumber’s crack

As he threw off the sheets and yelled, “I beat the fartsack!”

I asked’ “Why do you wake so early each day?

It only takes a moment to dress and be on your way.”

“Because,” he replied , “I gotta check Twitter,

and it take some time while I sit on the… toilet.”

At 0515, he sped off in the dark

So I figured I’d follow; tailed him to a park.

From the bushes I saw fist bumps, and heard something strange;

None of his friends called each other by their actual names.

“Yo! Hootie! Stinky Cheese! Wojo, J-Love, Sacked!

“Hey! Gunny! ‘Sup, Daphne? #Cotter… welcome back!

Then someone yelled, “Men! No time to get cozy”

“I’m no pro, please don’t sue. Now, let’s go for a mosey.”

I watched from the bushes, still in my pajamas.

They ran, circled up and yelled, “Warm-o-rama!”

I knew the exercises, but the names were all stumpers:

“Sun Gods & Merkins, Hillbillies & Monkey Humpers.”

And that is when the morning really went south…

One of them broke wind; I almost threw up in my mouth!

And yet, I maintained, my cookies were not tossed.

The men formed two lines; something about, “applesauce”

For the next 30 minutes I was thoroughly confused

As I watched them run amok, their bodies, abused.

Burpees & pull-ups. No gym, just the Earth

As the one they called, “Wicked” led them on “the Murph.”

One guy, he puked right on his partner’s toe!

They even had a name for THAT, “Tossing Merlot.”

I was convinced that my husband joined a cult.

Then they called for, “Mary!”, the final insult.

I’d had enough, it was time for me to end it!

But what happened next had me completely suspended.

As the men circled up, my husband, he spoke.

He began with a quip, a really lame joke.

But then opened up about a concern that he had

How a friend lost a job, how he hoped he was a good dad.

Another man wept, asked for prayers for his wife

Then they all took a knee and gave thanks for their life.

Better husbands, better fathers, better friends, they all prayed.

“Amen!” they ended and ’round the shovel flag stayed.

They spoke about how to help our own town

Feed the hungry, clothe the cold, put a tree in the ground.

Repair houses, Judy’s Chair, Book Studies & fund-raising,

What these guys have accomplished is truly amazing.

So I snuck on home, I hadn’t known what to expect

These men of all ages had earned my RESPECT!

Although it’s annoying to be married to F3

I can see why they do it; for brotherhood, for community.

And as they sat at Panera, coffee the preferred drink,

I remembered just how bad, the family wagon would stink.

PAX: 294

QIC: an-ms-holiday-wish-for-the-f3-nation