IN CASE OF MY DEMISE
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 |
Here is the most devious part of the deathtrap…the seat swivels.
 |
| Deathtrap seat in full swivel |
“Sure.”
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.
“Whoa!”
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.
“WHAT THE FUCK!!”
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.
Coincidence?
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!
made me laugh out loud! her reasoning sounds familiar, somehow...
ReplyDeletePut 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.
ReplyDeleteHave a fabulous day. ☺
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.
ReplyDeleteI 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!
ReplyDeleteI'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?
ReplyDeleteAh, all those good intentions...
ReplyDeleteRemove something else and make room for that contraption to save your marriage and your life.
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.
ReplyDeleteGarage sale.
ReplyDeleteHeh, heh. It's a Jerk Trap. She knows what she's doing. And she knows how to bide her time. Five years!
ReplyDeleteLet the life insurance policy lapse and I bet she moves it until a ne policy gets established.
ReplyDeleteJust thinking out loud here.
Curious that just as he was about to take a step she told him to look at the television. Curious indeed, Inspector.
ReplyDeleteDoes Mrs Cranky stand to inherit a sizeable insurance?
ReplyDeleteMove the death trap immediately.
You remember the golden rule of de-cluttering? If you haven't used it in a year, ditch it.
ReplyDeleteSD'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.
ReplyDeleteDitto 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. :)
ReplyDeleteI'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.
ReplyDeleteLOL Hilarious, as always, although this time the comments are just as funny!
ReplyDeleteLoved it! Very funny. She is right though. I apply the same logic to my treadmill!
ReplyDelete