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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 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 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 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!
> > >
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