My Own Torturer

Firstly, I can't believe I haven't told you about our night time visitor! Urgh! Just thinking about it creeps me out. Whilst the sting from these is not fatal, it can result in several day pain. I was returning from the bathroom at silly o'clock when I noticed something sticking out the bottom of the bedroom door. 

I first thought it was just a tag off one of our backpacks, then on second look realised that a) none of our backpacks are anywhere near the door and b) it was moving! Funnily enough, the picture is not one we took as this turned into the most epic 10 minutes Mr John and I have had in a long time! 

Because of the hour, I quietly called to Mr John and tapped lightly on the door. He already had his head down but woke up quick smart I can tell you. So he's on the bedroom side of the door and I'm in the hall. He's instructed me to get his boots. They're pretty big and clumpy, so I've got hold of them and kept saying "now what" but he was silent on what I should actually do with them. I could hear a bit of huffing and puffing never a good thing and a repeated instruction to get his boots. 

So there I am in the hall holding his boots, feeling like a bit of an idiot and still not fully understanding what the issue is. So I put said boots on telling him this is what I was doing and was that the right thing to do? Still no real answer! I figured if the "thing" was going to come streaking out of the bedroom there was no way I was going to have bare feet. So regardless, I was safely ensconced in the boots! Next thing I know, he's telling me to open the door and step on it. Uuurgh!!! 

I open the door to find him laying face down with his head over the bottom of the bed. In his hand is a large water bottle that he's pressing down trying to stop the little bugger moving. With him yelling "stamp on it, stamp on it" goodness knows what the neighbour was thinking it took about four goes for the thing to stop wiggling. It was so disgusting, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. 

To give you some idea of what I was going through, take your hand and grasp the index finger of your other hand. Feel it? Yep, that's how it felt under my boot ensconced feet. So now, all the lights are put on when someone has to go to the bathroom and one of the boots is permanently by his side of the bed. Phew!

Anyway, back to today's news. Namely, for the princely sum of 100 baht, I have my own personal torturer. OK, some of you might refer to her as my yoga instructor. I started going last week when my friend Kik told be about it. It's just down the bottom of our street and is at 9am every weekday (except Thursdays). This is a great time and location for me and the girls there are just lovely - even my torturer.

As a result, I pretty much ache all over all day, but I'm sure it's going to be great in the long run. If only I could get into a nice hot bath at the end of it! I thought going would be a good idea for a number of reasons. Firstly, flexibility at any age is a good idea. Secondly, it would get me out of the house and finally, help improve my Thai speaking skills. 

Well, the first point will hopefully come with time. It's definitely improved my disposition getting out and seeing people. However, everyone including the torturer has at least some English and they're so thrilled to practice that nobody speaks to me in Thai! I'm going to have to learn the phrase "please help me speak Thai" and tell them all one of these mornings.

Classes are a hoot. She has us bending this way and that turning ourselves into some sort of human pretzel and then says "relax, relax" or actually sabai, sabai. Yeah right, you try and relax when your ankle is up around your earlobe! Thankfully, a few of the others struggle too so I'm not left feeling like the dunce of the class. And another thing I've found out is that when I have to stand on one leg, I wobble around like an un-set jelly! I cling to the fact that the only way is up.