One of the things I’m famous for telling my family (and anyone else unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time) is life is a series of trade-offs and pay-offs. It’s basically just an easier way of saying, “Sometimes you get the bear and
sometimes you decide you’d rather go fishing so you give the bear your gun so you can get a better grip on your pole and, just as you’re reeling in the perfect fish for dinner, the bear shoots you in the ass with your own gun. You end up with a delicious tasting fish that totally hits the spot, but you have to eat it standing up because your right cheek is filled with buckshot. sometimes the bear gets you.”
This cute little
run-on mess colloquialism is especially true when you have a glitched-out body. Think of it this way, you know you have to go to the grocery store later, so you skip doing the laundry to keep from wasting your leg-juice on the stairs going to and from the laundry room. Or you think having functional legs is gonna come in handy later, so you skip having some good old fashioned, Newlywed-style, freaky-deaky time with the Hubs.
Or you don’t.
(And just like that, we went from talkin’ about bears to sex. Because around here, ain’t nothin’ off limits.)
As far as trade-off and pay-offs go? All I’m gonna say is TOTALLY worth it! As far as subtlety goes? Epic fail.
It would seem you can’t really hide the fact that you’ve used up three days worth of thigh muscle functionality doin’ the beast-with-two-backs-boogaloo when you a. walked in the bedroom on your own and b. were carried out of the bedroom, tomato-red faced and giggling like a damn moron.
You end up sitting on the couch (because that’s where Hubby dropped you), smiling on the outside, while internally you’re a little panicked about HOW you’re gonna manage when everyone leaves for work and you’re left alone to carry out the evening bird work and various other critter chores. BECAUSE YOU CAN’T WALK!
Then the Girl sneaks in her room and calls off work. It would seem she’s seriously observant and has picked-up on the fact that you’re quietly panicking. And she’s a huge slice of awesome!
Right up until she flips the script on your ass by putting her hands on her hips, in the universal posture of the pissed-off Mother, and saying, “Let’s just be clear about this, I know what happened. I’m not stupid and I’ve seen this from you before.”
And just like that, you’re redder-than-red-faced and giggling ‘til tears are rollin’ again. And you can’t stop. Because your daughter just kinda called you out for “sneaking” some Hubby-Wifey time of the more carnal (and fun) nature.
Why am I tell you about this? Because I’m back to thinking I need to convince Babyface, my Rheumy, to give me bionic leg braces. I figure if the stupid things can’t buckle while trying to just hold my weight, maybe I’ll be able to get more done around here and the possible trade-offs won’t necessarily involve choices like walking versus…y’know…fun time.
Also? No one, even at the age of 43, enjoys getting busted. Besides, if I got a Mom-lecture yesterday, I can’t even imagine what I’d have to deal with if The Girl got fired for staying home with my lame ass (and legs).
I’m playing Sunday Confessions with with More than Cheese and Beer. Today’s topic was “without”. I’m thinking this works, since I spent my entire day WITHOUT the ability to freakin’ WALK. (Damn, but I wish I’d made this whole post up.)
If you’re lookin’ for more, you can also find me…