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 "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.
The impact knocked me out cold.
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!
Hope your week is better than his!!!!!!!!!!
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 "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.
The impact knocked me out cold.
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!
Hope your week is better than his!!!!!!!!!!
