Thursday, August 03, 2006

Mr. P's Crippled Crotch

It was painful to listen in as Mr. Pseudonym called his boss and reported no change in his condition. He's still unable to walk without the aid of crutches, and he's frustrated to be away from his busy desk at Aircraft & Other-Stuff-You-Don't-Need-To-Know-About R Us. He had deadlines and due dates before his inguinal muscle ripped, and he's not happy about abandoning his duties to lie about the house. Mr. Boss offered no advice other than to state that a 5-day absence due to sickness was the maximum allowed before an employee would be required to apply for disability status.

We finally figured out what the precipitating event was: a week ago last Saturday, Mr. Pseudonym replaced the track under our sliding glass door at the back of the house. This necessitated picking up a 100 lb. glass door repeatedly and placing it either on the floor or back in its frame. Mr. P felt no muscle strain or pain from his efforts, but there was damage done nonetheless. As Junket so superfluously observed, "Well, I guess you won't be picking up any more glass doors by yourself, will you, Dad?"

Most people don't like to go in to work each day. Some people mildly dislike their jobs, others actively hate their jobs, but there are few who really love going in to work. Mr. P loves going in to work. He drives an hour and a half each way to get to work and back, but he's glad to be there every day. He enjoys interacting with his co-workers, and he enjoys the challenges of his other-stuff-you-don't-need-to-know-about projects. He's been a good provider for his family and a good employee to his company. And now he's felled by a STUPID GLASS DOOR and may be facing a protracted period of disability!

I dunno...
Makes me want to take a hammer and go after that door. If it weren't 83°F with 79% humidity at 2:25am, I might put on some safety glasses and give that door a glass whuppin', but we don't need excessive heat and biting insects inside the house right now--not to mention the noise of the cicadas.

Ah, well--I shall pamper Mr. P tomorrow and make sure he takes his medicine on time. We've known each other for 50 years, and he's been my best friend and closest confidant for 35 years (37 if you count the engagement), so there's not much life can throw at us that we can't get through together. And this includes torn crotches and babysitting rats.

dasfdpwewr=032=054vb6 .............................oetbav[r'UWI43304 OREKEAPFKJBMBVRRRRRRRRRRRRM,,,,SER 4RQ4SSSSSSSS9R 845 KDL.

WHOOPS! Fell asleep on the keyboard again! Morpheus insists!

No comments: