Here Kitty, Kitty!

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 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 behaviour 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 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 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 into 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!