It's funny how one day I'm sitting down crossing my legs. The toughest thing I'm fighting over is which leg will be dominant for the next twenty minutes; before I finally get fed up and just stand. Then BAM!
The next I'm walking down the street, going to the ol' corner store, when my left foot slips, causing me to stumble and fall. Conveniently a passing car manages to not see me fall, and runs right over my leg. Now the toughest thing I'm fighting for is, how am I going to tell my wife? The mother of my unborn child, still budding inside her. He'll never get to play ball with his old man like the other kids.
I can see how the conversation will pan out already.... Hey Sweetie, it's Jim... Yeah your husband, not the creepy man adjacent from us who stares at you as you sun tan in the backyard....How's my leg you ask? What a peculiar question.... Well the right one is jut fine, looking good and strong baby... Uh?.... The left one?.... What about it?.....Oh you saw the news.... Well why don't you ask the incompident clod who ran it over?... Oh that's right you can't, Because the Damn Bastard drove away.
No comments:
Post a Comment