| Charles McKeever send this one in...
I sent this to Doug but
being that its just dumb enough to be true, I thought I would post
it....chaz
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate
my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying.
On one occasion, I had a valid reason, but lied anyway because the truth
was too 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 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 out to me from the kitchen. "Ed! The garbage
disposal is dead. Come reset it."
"You know where the button is," I protested through the
shower. "Reset it yourself!"
"I'm scared!" she pleaded. "What if it starts going and
sucks me in?" (Pause) "C'mon, it'll only take a second."
So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement
about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence. I crouched
down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button.
It is 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 took the bait
under the sink. At precisely the second 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, 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.
Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they
tried to conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter.
At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept
silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. "What's the matter,
cat got your tongue?"
If they had only known. |
