Strippin'

My new exercise regimen started out innocently enough. I hate the treadmill, get bored with the stairclimber and so I wanted something different. So when my friend told me about a company called B.Fab.Fitness, a funky dance fitness class complete with moves that Beyonce would holla at, I said "Where do I sign up?"

And that is where the trouble began.

I am a mom. I am a wife. And now, I am a dirty, dirty stripper J-Lo wannabe. Thanks to my new dance workout, I have found my outlet to secretly entertain my deepest fantasies of being Janet Jackson, Shakira, and Beyonce; all rolled into one Bootylicious Trinity.

My first class started out tame, I wasn't sure if I still had the moves that I remember having when I was 18 and in da club.

And as it turned out. I did.

With one swoop of the hips and thrust of the pelvis, it all returned to me like I had just climbed on a bicycle. And then it was on. I never realized how growing into a responsible adult deprived me of the splendid nastiness of my youth, and now that I have it back, I just can't get enough.

Move over Shakira. Cause these hips? They don't lie.