Turbo Matty P
12-17-2003, 11:05 PM
> 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
> 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 buck naked in front of a group of "been-here,
> 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!
:eek:
> 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
> 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 buck naked in front of a group of "been-here,
> 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!
:eek: