Baby Butt Weight Loss Plan

I have been informed that everyone needs five minutes of exercise a day. Last I heard it was thirty but if people won't rise to the challenge, the challenge must lower to them. My friend Helen recently watched a TV morning show featuring a stay at home mom who cleared the living room for her five minute routine, because, goodness knows, we moms all need more exercise. It could be argued that, by the time she hoisted the couch and bulldozed the cubic tonne of toys to clear a spot for her yoga mat, she had done her week's worth of exercise and should have been nominated for the peace prize. According to the morning show it was not enough. She then proceeded outside for a walk around the block, briskly pumping her arms and marching into the distance. This led me to the following questions:

1. Where were her children? Does she have a stay at home nanny? Did her stay at home nanny get her five minutes of exercise? If so did it violate her immigration?
2. If she did not have a stay at home nanny did she lock the children in the cellar? Are Child and Welfare Services aware that exercise is driving her to abuse? And who has a cellar these days unless your name is Dorothy and you live in tornado alley?
3. Could she tell me, please, what it is like outside?

I'm sure this doesn't count but my current regimen involves carrying my infant twin girls in my arms while chasing my toddler son. For sustenance I chew on my sweater. With such a regular diet and exercise routine you would think that I would be svelte, buff and peddling my secrets on TV. I'm not. I should have followed the example of one of my dear friends who leapt off the birthing table, into a pair of runners, and now could model for Sports Illustrated. Not that she would, she has a good job. Instead, while the top half of my body looks reasonably fat free, with the exception of my chin, my bottom half looks like Noddy, the rolly, poley, but happy little nome. This is because of the babies. To be exact my butt is wide because I birthed four babies. Never mind that I did not carry them in my butt, even if it felt like it.

I plan on using this excuse forever. I will be ninety-nine, in the nursing home, still rubbing my hips and saying "four babies." The nurses, even the male ones, will all nod in understanding because by then people will be having babies just so they can have a butt like mine. We all know it is cushionier even if it does make it difficult to find a seat on an airplane. We can at least sit next to a person who is able to exercise five minutes a day and have the joy of impeding their sitting comfort.