I’ve mentioned before my love for Zumba, an aerobics class based on Latin fusion and hip-hop. It’s fun, doesn’t feel like exercise and you get to wear pants with streamers and tassles on them. (Hubs calls them “butt pasties.”)

I got this pair for Christmas.

Problem is, once you put on this pants, you want to set those hips in motion. And mine are rapidly approaching the 40-year mark.

Ever since I got those pants, I’ve been gyrating like a maniac. Last night, I got a little carried away during a merengue and pulled a muscle in my lower back.

Even so, I just ordered a purple pair of pants from my instructor. I may incapacitate myself before my birthday, but I can’t wait to make those tassles twirl!