So this a.m. at work, power's off for three hours. As I sat in the rising heat in my office, I used the cell to call DH and let him know in an emergency to call the cell. Realize the cell's battery is low. Keep it in my pocket to remind me to recharge during my lunch hour.
Lunchtime, go to Publix. My trusty talking pedometer shoved deep into my right pocket, dying cell in the left. As I'm buying chicken for Tia,I accidently set off the talking pedometer. It blares to the world.
YOU HAVE BURNED 102 CALORIES!
Sounds like it's coming directly from my crotch. Someone checking out the meat turns and stares. I leave, but not before the cell phone starts beeping, signaling the battery is almost dead.
Talking crotch announcing I've burned 103 calories. Sheesh. I can't begin to imagine what that guy thought. My crotch burns up 103 lousy calories and then the battery dies.