Couldn’t resist sharing this one, since a friend sent it to my wife and I, and we both burst out laughing as soon as we saw it!
I’m feeling kinda brain dead today, so unless things improve on that score, I won’t be attempting any of my own original humor here today. But… I still want to contribute something to make people smile and maybe even laugh, most of all on a Monday during the holiday season, during these very difficult and trying economic times. I believe in the power of humor, and I think that laughter is one of the best stress relievers available without a prescription.
So excuse me if I borrow some humor and share it with you.
This story was not written by me. Although the events described sounds like something that could happen to me. (God forbid!) I have tried to find who the original author is, but without success.
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. (First clue to prove that I didn’t write this – I have never been uncomfortable about calling in sick.) No matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying. (Wimp! Ok, I’ll settle down now, and let the wimp tell his story!)
On one occasion, I had a valid reason, but lied anyway because the truth was too humiliating. I just mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel well enough to come in the next day. By then, I thought I could think up a way to explain the bandage on my head that wouldn’t be nearly so embarrassing.
The accident occurred because my wife and I had recently adopted a cute little kitty from our local shelter. Initially, our new pet was no problem, but one morning I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from the kitchen.
“Ed!! The garbage disposal is dead. Come and reset it.” “You know where the button is,” I protested through the shower (pitter-patter). “Reset it yourself!” “I’m scared!” she pleaded. “What if it starts going and sucks me in?” (Pause) “C’mon, it’ll only take you a second.”
So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her silly behavior was not without consequence. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the reset button.
It is the last action I remember performing.
It struck without warning, without any regard for my circumstances. No, it wasn’t a demonically possessed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling “cat toys” she spied between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I crouched under the sink.
At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the family jewels I left exposed and unguarded, and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I immediately lost all capacity for rational thought and self control, while instantly leaping upward, with the full weight of a kitten dug in and hanging from my masculinity!
Wild animals are sometimes faced with a “fight or flight” syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the “flight” option. Fleeing straight up, the sink and cabinet stopped my ascent with blunt force trauma to my head, and the impact knocked me out cold. When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me.
Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing hysterical laughter.
At the office the next day, my co-workers tried to pry an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about. “What’s the matter?” one of them asked, “Cat got your tongue?” “Well, not exactly…” I answered vaguely, while silently and profoundly relieved that they’d never know the awful truth!