Calling in sick to work makes me feel very uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate my illness, I always feel my boss thinks I am lying.
Once I had a valid reason, but lied anyway because the truth was just too humiliating. I simply said I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown.
The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. Initially the new acquisition was no problem, but one morning I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call me from the kitchen. "Ed! The garbage disposal is dead. Please come reset it for me. "
"You know where the button is, " I protested through the shower (pitter-patter). "Reset it yourself! "
"I can't " She pleaded. "What if I mess it up ?" (Pause) "C'mon, it'll only take a second."
Grudgingly out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a clear statement about my feelings that her behavior was not without consequence. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. That was the last action I remember performing. "It" struck without warning, without respect to my circumstances.
Nay, it wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I bent to look under the sink.
At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I had so unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. I lost all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements, while rising upwardly 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. Fleeing straight up, the sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. The paramedics, no doubt, fully briefed by my wife, snorted as they conducted their work while trying to suppressing hysterical laughter.
At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk about. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue? "
If they had only known!
Do ordinary things in an extraordinary way!!
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Unless otherwise noted, all photos and text is Copyright © Richard G Lowe, Jr.