Boot camp and booty calls

So I am back at bootcamp trying to ensure I'm not stuck with a tankass following the emergence of The Bambino in September. yes people, SEPTEMBER that means I am now more than 4.5 months preggers. Past halfway and so far it's a breeze. The ...er... chest is still bigger than the stomach but sure that's changing by the day.
Anyway, uncharacteristically, I digress. Yesterday I was in the process of dying at bootcamp and the instructor (aka Adolf) was taking the opportunity to assure us that despite what the admin fiends at bootcamp may say, it is perfectly fine to exercise through your pregnancy bla bla bla (I had to get special permission and sign an indemnity form and was enjoying feeling quite self righteous with my efforts until) this other woman pipes up (snottily) "I exercised ALL the way through my pregnancy and it was just fine... I did ballet!" (My mate rolls her eyes at me and I smirk, wondering why she had clearly stopped exercising since). Yes, yes, I hear all the cat meowing sounds you are making and I must admit that the hormones may be releasing a bit of ... honesty into my thoughts. But seriously she was just being a nasty little glory stealer. Just leave me alone to puff around that field and bask in the attention and praise it results in, k?
So now you're all waiting on the booty call bit which is the only reason you have bothered reading this far in the first place. Well now that I can finally track how people come upon this blog I figured I should probably type out terms like booty call as much as possible :). Just jokes. That's a bit cheap. There was in fact a great story about a booty call (oops, I did it again!) but it seems inappropriate to share it here.
And now you all hate me.