Inches,Garbages, and Headbangers

I have started working out. I am on week ThRee of running everyday, and I feeling pretty good. It would be shocking to some to find out that I don't own a scale, I never have. I have never trusted the scale. The scale to me doesn't say that I look good. My clothes however do, oh, and my trusty 'Tape Measurer'

(It works for me, its a love hate relationship for sure)
The other day we were driving through construction and there was a lot of heavy machinery. So, Jack says: "I think that is called a 'Backhoe' "

I respond, with a laugh "I don't think so"

Jack "Yeah, I think it is called that. Do you want to 'wager' on it?"

Me: "Okay if you're wrong you have to take all the chicken off the bone (tacito night, I hate that job)

Jack's reply "Okay and if you're wrong than you have to bring in the garbage cans off the street"

Well, it was called a 'Backhoe', uh, smart Jack. So not only did I have to take the chicken off the bone, I also had to haul the garbage cans off the street. But, it wasn't so bad thanks to my helper. I was stunned when this little guy pulled this garbage can from the street, through a gate, around two corners, and finally to the back porch. It was awesome, I couldn't believe how well he did. Child slavery! Hooray!

Awesome Picture of the week brought to you by "Jane Headbanger"

(Could nibble those cheeks all day, and usually do)