I am very bad at squats but I keep trying to not be bad at them. Some people do them like they spent their entire womb-life squatting, like they are actually followed around by a series of invisible chairs, but I do them desperately, like I’m constantly falling, like I was born without muscle. But instead of being upset about my poor form and utter lack of athleticism, it makes me kind of happy, because I recently discovered that my brothers can’t do squats, either. We are just all genetically pre-disposed to not doing squats, for whatever reason. Not only is this a remarkable excuse for squatting like I’m pooping really cold play doh, it also just reminds me that I have three brothers, and no matter where we all are, we are connected, and we are the same, and we cannot squat.