I love my husband, BUT...

... I just went on the second to worst date in my life (the first worst was in college, but I won't go there.)

Jack had an idea to take a self defense class. I thought it was a one hour quick summary of what I should do if someone approaches me. Boy, was I wrong. It was called Krav Maga. It was punching bags, knee pads, spinning on you back terribleness.

My first red flag was that Jack couldn't be my partner. WHY? This was supposed to be a date. I wanted to spend time with him.

Then we started kneeing bags that our partner (who, may I remind you, was not Jack) was holding and after the millionth knee I wanted to shoot myself.

Then we started punching bags until my knuckles bled and my skin was peeling off my hands. (All while working with a complete stranger who never said ONE WORD!!!)

In my head I was already wanting to kill Jack and then I look at him and his partner was KICKING his ASS! Jack later told me that he was sweating so much and working so hard that snot was flying out of his nose with every punch the other guy gave. I'm still laughing about that.

AND THEN, we start simulating being knocked down onto our back by our opponent and turning around on our back. I'm not explaining that right enough to let you know the pain this was, but it was burning my back and causing my skin to twist and I thought it was going to look like my knuckles! OUCH! Why would anyone pay to have their back scabbed in their bathing suit.

By the time we walked out I wanted to KILL Jack for submitting me to that.

NEVER. NEVER. NEVER EVER AGAIN!