Last week, I discovered a new math equation:
Toy+Stairs+300lbs man = a trip to Patient First, the medical clinic.
While I’m sitting there being processed, I thought about a game I used to play with my coworkers. It consisted of embellishing what happened to land them in the hospital. I’d tell them they always had to have ninjas in their story, at least five. An alligator was optional. Lions were a bonus. it got to a point where my coworkers would seek me out after they injured themselves and ask me to make up a story for them to tell people.
Well, I thought to myself, it would be hypocritical of me to not spin a good story for myself after I encouraged my co-workers to do the same. So, as my wife’s my witness, when the nurse asked me how I hurt myself, without missing a beat or cracking a smile, I looked at her and said,
What I would have given to have my camera on me. The look on the nurses face was priceless as she stopped writing and stared at me in a mixture of disbelief and shock. Before I could spin my tale, the Missus jumped in and said, “Boy, what is WRONG with you?!?” Stop playing around and tell the nurse what happened!”
Now I’m not exactly sure what my wife was thinking at that moment, but I’m thinking it was something along the lines of “Why did I marry this fool?”
Heh, Glenda Lynchard would be proud of me.