If any of you have checked the news this morning, Ice-lanta seems to be the next most interesting thing to talk about beside Minnesota’s blizzard.
We knew it was going to be bad last night when my husband walked on the back deck and slid 4 feet. You would think he would have remembered that when he walked out front to walk the dog, but oooooh no…he didn’t. He slid down our front stairs.
He claims it wouldn’t have been all that bad, but he was carrying precious cargo – Nigel the wiener dog. So he had to pull Nigel in close to him and roll to the side to ensure Nigel didn’t get hurt. In turn, he twisted his shoulder and hit the base of his back on every step on his way down. Boom, boom, boom.
It isn’t funny (snicker), that my big strong man (giggle) fell flat on his hiney (tee hee) as he tried to protect his little baby weenie dog (HA). Okay, it’s a tiny bit funny. He came in crying, “Ooooooooooh. Ooooooowwwwwww. Oooooooh. Whoooooa.” I tried to be sympathetic, but I accidentally said, “Um, you knew it was icy, right? Why didn’t you hold on to the hand rail? Or put salt out?”
Oh how it’s soooooo stupid when someone else falls, but if it had been ME I would have wanted all kinds of sympathy and hugs and a heating pad. What did my husband get? Ridicule, teasing, and a shot of whiskey.
Men get the raw end of the deal don’t they???