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Thursday, October 9, 2014



I’m not sure why, but I think Mrs. C is trying to kill me.  I may be a jerk, but I don’t think that should be a capital offense.  

There is a deathtrap in our bedroom!

It is disguised as a piece of exercise equipment but it is in fact a deathtrap.  It has never been used as a piece of exercise equipment so it must serve this other nefarious purpose.

The “Exercise equipment” is a “stomach toner.”  It has toned zero stomachs. 

This is the deathtrap.
Mrs. Cranky's deathtrap

It is located just off the front bedroom windows.  It is at a level that is easy to not see.  It has legs exactly at ankle level. 
            Here is the most devious part of the deathtrap…the seat swivels.

Deathtrap seat in full swivel
“Joe, it’s hot in here, could you open some windows?”


I walk around the deathtrap and open both windows.

“Check this out; you won’t believe how ugly this brides dress is!”

The TV which is tuned to “Four Weddings” (I know!) is several yards away from the death trap and on a slight angle.  Not wanting to miss an ugly wedding dress (I know!) I quickly turn from the windows and step to where I can see the TV.

My ankle hits the ankle-grabbing deathtrap leg and sends my upper body forward while my lower body is unable to move as it is caught in the deathtrap ankle-grabber.


No reason to panic, as there is a seat I can grab and hold onto in order to regain my balance.

I grab the seat, and the seat, as it has been cleverly designed to do, swivels in the direction of my sprawling body allowing for absolute zero resistance to break my fall.


Now the deathtrap has also been set from the bed, the exact distance of a 5’10” man’s falling body length so that his (my) forehead will smash into the solid oak bed frame. 


I think not.

Amazingly enough, this 68 year old man still has enough flexibility along with the reflexes of a cat…a very, very old cat to be sure, to be able to tuck and roll and barely avoid the intended fate of the deathtrap.  Still, a slightly overweight sixty-eight year old man falling hard is not a pretty sight.

Bruised but not broken I immediately told Mrs. Cranky,

“This piece of shit has got to go before it kills someone!”

No way; I need that to keep my girlish figure.”

“When have you ever used it?”

“Well I plan to use it.”

“It’s been there for five years and almost killed me three times.  Could we at least put it in the basement?”

“If it’s in the basement I’ll never use it.”

“You never use it now!”

“But I plan to use it, and it’s staying right where it is, just learn to step around it.”

If anything happens to me, don’t believe Mrs. Cranky…accident hell!

And she calls me a jerk!


  1. made me laugh out loud! her reasoning sounds familiar, somehow...

  2. Put it in the basement Cranky. Okay, have someone else put it in the basement. I think it's out to get you. Yes I do.

    Have a fabulous day. ☺

  3. Ha ha! We once had a treadmill in our house and the only exercise it provided was when I lugged it from room to room to get it out of the way.

  4. I hear that kind of reasoning about things several times a day. EVERYTHING would be in the middle of EVERY room if Frank had his way. It's a constant battle. Good luck!

  5. I'm pretty sure ALL at-home exercise equipment is used for anything BUT exercise. That contraption is a little too low to serve as the classic: clothes hanger. Perhaps a sock dryer?

  6. Ah, all those good intentions...
    Remove something else and make room for that contraption to save your marriage and your life.

  7. We have one of those in our house. Death trap, that is. Like a walking bicycle, standing up. I don't know. I catch my pockets on it, or trip on the feet. My BIL intends to use it. For the last ten years.

  8. Heh, heh. It's a Jerk Trap. She knows what she's doing. And she knows how to bide her time. Five years!

  9. Let the life insurance policy lapse and I bet she moves it until a ne policy gets established.

    Just thinking out loud here.

  10. Curious that just as he was about to take a step she told him to look at the television. Curious indeed, Inspector.

  11. Does Mrs Cranky stand to inherit a sizeable insurance?
    Move the death trap immediately.

  12. You remember the golden rule of de-cluttering? If you haven't used it in a year, ditch it.

  13. SD's mum has an exercise bike in her kitchen - she hangs scarves and handbags from it - seeing as she is 79 it's probably the safest way for her to use it.

  14. Ditto River. And which one of those steel tubes is the "seat"? And exactly how do you impale yourself on it in order to swivel? I think it's really some sort of 21st Century torture device. I think she's out to get you. Watch your back. :)

  15. I'm reminded of the episode on "Everybody Loves Raymond" when Robert and his wife took over the parents' house and put an exercise machine in the living room. And then the parents returned and the mother called it "...some sort of sex machine..." Bwahahahaha.

  16. LOL Hilarious, as always, although this time the comments are just as funny!

  17. Loved it! Very funny. She is right though. I apply the same logic to my treadmill!


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