Crash Tested Dummy

It's mostly her fault, as you'll soon see.

It's been almost 16 months since I got the new knee, and I guess she just figured it was time to give it a good wringing thrash.

She comes home after tending the grandkids, starts taking in the laundry off the line, putting my well deserved dinner together, and remarks, "Since Herb is mixing stucco for the front of the house, why not have him use some of it to attach those tiles that have come off the roof over the front porch?"

Sounds innocuous, not the least devious, right? I carefully consider my options; nothing here to force me out of my chair in front of the Suns game, so being charitable yet cautious I intone an "Ungh, I guess." Then it came -

"Ok, they're down behind the pool. Why don't you go bring them up and put them out front where he'll see them?"

Damn! Should have seen that one coming.

Groaning, mumbling and muttering I rousts myself, puts the game on pause, and trundles down the hill in the gloaming through the underbrush. I collects an armload of fragile mexican roof tiles and heads back up the hill thinking it's about time to cut back some of these bushes in case I ever come down here again and one of the roots of one of the bushes reaches out, grabs my foot, and the ground rises up and smites me, kerbang on the knee.

The ensuing crash of the shattering tiles and my groveling around in the dirt brought quick response from the conniving laundry wench, who insisted that I get back in my chair, brought an ice pack and a glass of wine, and barbecued pork chops with buttered squash and potato salad for her poor, damaged sweetie.

But how quickly things can change.

After we've et, I'm rubbing my belly, trying to elicit a belch to compliment her, she says, "How's that knee doing?" "Huh? Oh, ok I guess." "Then take these dirty dishes to the kitchen, bring me a bottle of water, and stay the hell away from the good china."