Men are babies. No matter what is wrong with them, NOBODY has ever had it as bad. Sir Cussalot is no exception.
Now don’t get me wrong, Sir Cussalot is my hero! He can do anything, fix anything and make me laugh like nobody else. This week he spent three days replacing the hot water heater/heat heater in the Global Warmer. It was an enormous and expensive job. Had we had to pay somebody else to replace it, the cost would have been even higher than it already was. THANK GOD he is so handy.
There was a time when it would have been a snap, but at 76 years old, he is not as flexible, nor does he heal like he used to. Somehow, while crawling around underneath the GW and wrestling with the 200 pound Aquahot, he pulled or tore something around his ribs. He has a knot the size of a marble and can barely move.
I do know how painful that is. Back in the 1970s I was breaking a HUGE and very crazy Appaloosa who threw me against a round pen made of pipe. I could barely drive myself home! It hurt so much I couldn’t believe it. So I do have some sympathy for him.
I would still like to see him, or any man for that matter, push a bowling ball with arms and legs out his…. and see how that feels! There is a reason God made women have the babies. Had men been the ones to give birth, the human race would have gone extinct before it ever got off the ground.
Every time Sir C moves he moans and groans. Luckily, this is my second week out of chemo so I am able to help out a lot. Come Monday, he best be all better ‘cause I will be useless once again! We are both rambling wrecks!
His brother told him to put something around his ribs to keep him from breathing deeply. He disappeared into the bedroom and emerged with his leather belt buckled up around his ribs. He looked so ridiculous, I started laughing and couldn’t stop. He said, “DON’T MAKE ME LAUGH! IT HURTS YOU KNOW!!!!” Which, of course, made me laugh even harder! More moaning and groaning followed.
So he finally settled down in his chair to watch the Olympic opening ceremonies. For those who did not see it, they brought in some floating islands suspended with wires. On one of the islands there was a large active volcano. I thought and thought and could not think of a Russian volcano. Chalk it up to chemo brain.
So I said to sir Cussalot, “What the heck volcano is there in Russia?”
He answered very seriously in his very low and very serious voice:
I lost it. There he was, sitting pitifully in old baggy sweats and a ripped blue t-shirt, looking like Pappa Smurf, with that ridiculous belt tied around his upper ribs. I couldn’t stop laughing. I was laughing so hard I could barely talk. He started laughing and the harder he laughed, the harder he moaned and whimpered. The more he begged me to stop laughing, the harder I laughed. It was an endless vicious circle that seemed to go on, to my great amusement, forever. I have not laughed that hard in a very very long time.
Just when things started to settle down, my friend Claudia called me. I was still chuckling to myself. I am sure she thought I was hearing voices in my head. I started to tell her the story of Sir C injuring himself and I started laughing all over again. She thought I was terrible for laughing at him for getting hurt. I tried to explain that it wasn’t that he was hurt that I was laughing, but I was laughing too hard to explain.
Finally, I was able to tell her about the floating islands and the volcano on one. Then I tried like hell to explain the volcano story but I was laughing so hard I couldn’t talk. Every time I got to the Mt. Baboomski part, I could no longer speak coherently. It took me about ten tries before I was able to get it out of my mouth.
Then, Claudia made my night.
“Is that the name of the volcano?” she asked with sincerity.
Well, that is when I really lost it. Tears were streaming down my cheeks and I was unable to speak.
By now, Sir C had gotten up and gone into the bedroom because listening to me laugh was making him laugh and that led to more torture. When I stopped laughing so hard, he started back towards the living room of the Global Warmer and I said, “You know what Claudia just asked me?”
“DON’T TELL ME!!!” he said trying very hard not to laugh. “IT HURTS TOO MUCH! I DON’T WANT TO KNOW!!!!”
Well, of course, that was my cue to tell him. It took a few tries but I finally blurted out incoherently, “She wants to know if that is the real name of the volcano!”
We both broke down in hysterics, only Sir C’s laughs were mixed with cries of, “OW OW OW OW OW!!!!!!!!!” and various cusswords.
I promised Claudia I would change the names to protect the morons (oops I mean the innocent), (actually, instead of moron, I used my favorite new word that is not appropriate for this blog but those who know me well will know the word to which I refer).
Sorry Claudia, I lied. I didn’t change the names ;).
Thanks to Sir Cussalot and Claudia for the incredibly fun and laughter filled evening. I SURE NEEDED THAT!