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Calling In Sick For Work.....lol


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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


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


There was a meaningful pause and then, "C'mon, it'll only take you a


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 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"


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


*BTW this didn't happen to ME, but was a forward and I thought it was funny!!*

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