This is just hilarious. ~laughs~ We've all had trouble with our animals, but I don't think anyone can top this one:
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable.
No matter how legitimate my excuse, I always
get the feeling that my boss thinks I'm lying.
On one recent occasion, I had a valid reason
but lied anyway, because the truth was just
too darned humiliating. I simply mentioned
that I had sustained a head injury, and I
hoped I would feel up to coming in the
next day. By then, I reasoned, I could
think up a doozy to explain the bandage
on the top of my head. The accident occurred
mainly because I had given in to my wife's
wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.
Initially, the new acquisition was no problem.
Then one morning, I was taking my shower
after breakfast when I heard my wife,
Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.
"Honey! The garbage disposal is dead again.
Please come reset it."
"You know where the button is," I protested
through the shower pitter-patter and steam.
"Reset it yourself!"
"But I'm scared!" she persisted.
"What if it starts going and sucks me in?"
There was a meaningful pause and then,
"C'mon, it'll only take you a second."
So out I came, dripping wet and butt naked,
hoping that my silent outraged nudity
would make a statement about how I
perceived her behavior as extremely cowardly.
Sighing loudly, I squatted down and
stuck my head under the sink to find the button.
It is the last action I remember performing.
It struck without warning, and without any
respect to my circumstances. No, it wasn't
the hexed disposal, drawing me into its
gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty,
who discovered the fascinating dangling
objects she spied hanging between my legs.
She had been poised around the corner and
stalked me as I reached under the sink.
And, at the precise moment when I was
most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I
unwittingly offered and snagged them with
her needle-like claws. I lost all rational
thought to control orderly bodily movements,
blindly rising at a violent rate of speed, with
the full weight of a kitten hanging from
my masculine region.
Wild animals are sometimes faced with a
"fight or flight" syndrome. Men, in this
predicament, choose only the "flight" option.
I know this from experience. I was fleeing
straight up into the air when the sink and
cabinet bluntly and forcefully impeded
my ascent. The impact knocked me
out cold.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics
stood over me. Now there are not many
things in this life worse than finding oneself
lying on the kitchen floor butt naked in
front of a group of "been-there, done-that"
paramedics.
Even worse, having been fully briefed
by my wife, the paramedics were all snorting
loudly as they tried to conduct their work,
all the while trying to suppress their
hysterical laughter......and not succeeding.
Somehow I lived through it all.
A few days later I finally made it back in
to the office, where colleagues tried to
coax an explanation out of me about
my head injury. I kept silent, claiming
it was too painful to talk about, which it was.
"What's the matter?" They all asked,
"Cat got your tongue?"
If they only knew!
Why is it that only the women laugh at this?
