MEEEE OWIEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Cat Lover or Not, this is hysterical!
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?