Number Thirty Nine.

Warning: Several chaunchies and boobies were harmed in the making of this post!!!

We (Jill and CaLea and Morgan: new addition!!) made a quick pit-stop at Wendy's so our bellies were nice and full and squishy because we believed the extra flub would help us in our planking endeavors. Which, ultimately is a lie; we really just stopped because we were fetchin' hungry and we all know how Jill gets when she's hungry... she gets hangry. (Adjective;; ex: "I'm angry and hungry, so I'm hangry.")

But as soon as the clock struck 10:30 we had successfully inhaled the mini-meal we had purchased, and found ourselves sprinting across an abandoned grassy field in some park in the middle of our hometown...ehhehehe.

In the duration of thirty minutes, we raced across American Fork planking anything we thought was plankable that crossed our paths. And this post, well, this post is the result of our planking adventure, the adventure that cost us our bosoms.

p.s. Hugs got to join us, and he planked beautifully until he fell (aka was chucked from atop the yellow slide in some park that we are now currently unsure of the location...) and got fussy. So we shoved him in the car and left him to suffer in his own tears and sadness. We are great mothers. It's okay CaLea picked the woodchips from his butt fur and kissed him all better.