Calling in sick-kind of R rated

[lilyjohn]

Whenever I need a good laugh I re read this one. I may have posted it before but for all of the newbies I am putting it again. Make sure you are not eating anything when you read it. I get all of these images when I read it. Sorry guys at least the ladies will find it funny ooouch!

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 f! ascinating 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-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!

[Debi]