Some Humor

It's been rather dour in these parts this week, so I thought I'd share a humorous story that is making the e-mail rounds. This particular version comes to me courtesy of Brother Dave. By the way, this story is rated PG-13.

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 hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I reasoned, I could think up a doozey 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 when I hear my wife 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 door. "Reset it yourself." "But I'm scared of that thing" she persisted.

"What if it starts going and sucks me in or something?" There was a meaningful pause and then, "Please, it'll only take you a second."

Out I came, dripping wet and buck 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 kitten, who discovered the fascinating dangling objects hanging between my legs. She had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I reached under the sink. 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 concerning the control of 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 the 'fight or flight' syndrome. Men, in this predicament, choose only the flight option. Do NOT try to fight a kitten hanging on for dear life! 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 life worse than finding oneself lying on the kitchen floor, buck naked, in front of a group of 'been-there done-that' paramedics trying to suppress their hysterical laughter - and not succeeding. A few days later I made it back to the office, where my 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?" asked one smart alec. "Cat got your tongue?"

IF THEY ONLY KNEW!

Brother Dave reminded me of our fabled male cat, Sam, who would hide under the bed then attack a person's ankles when that person was least expecting it.

DJ does not limit herself to the bedroom. She'll hide around corners, at the edge of the couch, anywhere — and then attack.