Deux et Une Moitié (2 1/2)

So, Mr. Hummingbird goes in for his consult. He is given a diet plan and had his measurements taken. (at 6' tall he is 155 lbs. and his waist size is 33". These are the exact same measurements he had when he was 18 yrs old.) He hope to gain at least 20 lbs of muscle. He will work out with Tyrese three times a week ($40 each session. Mr. Hummingbird has no idea of what we are paying for this, BTW.) Unlike me, he chooses to do his workout first thing in the morning, (6am) return home, and get ready for work. I think that he is slightly insane, but who am I to judge?

His diet is basically the same foods as mine. He just has to eat a ton more of them. Plus, he gets to drink FIVE protein shakes a day.($45. He can't just drink my "chocolate" drink. He opts for "vanilla". Whatever. Again, those quote marks are not a typo.)
The first day, he gets up before God got up. He drove to the gym, wearing some spanking new work out clothes. He chugs his first protein shake. He actually seems happy about it. Loser.
An hour and a half later, I'm walking to my car when I see his car pull up in the drive way. I see him put his car in park. I see him put the parking brake on. I see his head do a weird kinda nod. Then, I see him throw up all over his dashboard.

I suppress the urge to giggle. (Hey, I'm not heartless!) I get into my car and drive to work. It's going to be a good day.

An hour later, he calls me and tells me that he is "sick". He's not going to go to work today. I tell him to stop being a sissy-la-la and get his arse to work. I also tell him that if he is looking for his balls, they are in my grey purse by the front door.
That makes me giggle uncontrollably. (I actually snort.)
He ignores me and tells me that he is going into the office after all.


Don't mess with me.