Howardrg
Well-known member
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 buck naked, hoping
that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement
about how I perceived her behaviour 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 buck
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?
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 buck naked, hoping
that my silent outraged nudity would make a statement
about how I perceived her behaviour 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 buck
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?
:lol: 
