Take my yesterday for example. The day started well enough knowing that Richie's brother Charlie and his wife Rosalind were flying in from New York and that we would meet them and their daughter Kate for a late lunch/early dinner at Tin Roof Bistro, a favorite.
They finally appeared and we settled down to a nice family reunion. Eventually I had to visit the Ladies. My business finished in the handicapped stall, I rose to return to the table -- and couldn't get up!
I didn't know it then but my underpants had got caught in a wheelchair part. In my ensuing struggles, I fell on my head and found myself looking in surprise at drops of blood falling off of my head onto the super-clean slate floor" and the next thing I did was scream, "HELP!" whereupon two strange ladies and Richie came tearing into the bathroom.
They fluttered around getting me upright and mopping blood off of my still bleeding wound (about a half an inch into the hair bordering my right side forehead.)
Finally I was respectable-looking and Richie wheeled me back to our table and thankfully, none of them made a big deal about it. I wasn't much of a conversationalist; I think I was a tad shaken up.
But the day wasn't over yet ...we went to bed as usual around 9:30 p.m. and were settling in, looking forward to a good night's sleep.
It wasn't to be. All cat owner's are familiar with a cat's "fits" wherein they tear through the house at breakneck speed, launching off furniture and landing barely long enough to regroup and tear off again. Fred had such a episode last night and in his craziness, landed right square on my face. He weighs 12 lbs. He didn't linger but took off again with alacrity, leaving three puncture holes on my face. Naturally all three bled like a bastard so on with the light and out with the Kleenexes.
I can only wonder what today will bring and am somewhat wary of speculating.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment