Gym Rat

I guess you've all heard of Dancing Queen.

Well, it seems I'm the Rowing Queen.

I don't quite understand the logic here, but HE and SHE go down into the gym every afternoon, and sit on this contraption called an indoor rower. They go backwards and forwards like the clappers. After a while it gets to be quite hypnotic, but THEY puff and pant like the end of the world is coming.

HE gets a bit distressed, which means I get distressed and I have to sit very close to give HIM something called moral support.

Then I go over to see HER, but she's not so distressed, and SHE stops and gets me on her lap and rows a bit. It feels ever so nice, and I sit down on her lap and go to sleep. Then SHE says: that's enough.

But I don't want to get down, I want to sit there forever and ever being rocked backwards and forwards.