Subject: Cat Got Your Tongue?
Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable. No matter how legitimate
my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying. On one occasion, I had
a valid reason, but lied anyway because the truth was too 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 could think up a doozy to explain
the bandage on my crown. The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to
my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty.
Initially the new acquisition was no problem, but one morning I was taking
my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife, Deb, call out to me from
the kitchen. "Ed! The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it." "You know
where the button is." I protested through the shower (pitter-patter). "Reset
it yourself!" "I am scared!" She pleaded. "What if it starts going and
sucks me in?" (Pause) "C'mon, it'll only take a second."
So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about
how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence. I crouched
down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last
action I remember performing. It struck without warning, without respect to
my circumstances. Naw, it wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its
gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the
dangling objects she spied between my legs. She had been poised around the
corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the
second 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, while
rising upwardly 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. Fleeing straight up, the sink and cabinet bluntly impeded
my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold.
When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully
briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their
work while suppressing hysterical laughter. At the office, colleagues tried
to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too
painful to talk about.
"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" If they had only known.