Fw: FW: CALLING IN SICK)

[Terry Terrenoire]

Gentlemen: My wife sent this to me and I just could not resist sharing it
with all of you, sure hope it is not true...but!!

Terry T.

Subject: FW: CALLING IN SICK)

Cat Lover or Not - this is hysterical if you're female. It's still funny
if
your not a female.

We've all had trouble with our animals, but I don't think anyone can top
this one:

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 doozie 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!

Why is it that only the women laugh at this?
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