Attack Rooster, a Bum Knee & PM Confusion

Last week I slipped on some wet leaves and sat on my knee. I have sat on my mother’s knee, my grandmother’s knee, Santa’s knee and a few other knees. I have had people sit on my knees but this is the first time I sat on my own.

Frankly there isn’t much positive to say about it. Sitting on your own knee requires bending hips and knees into new positions. Although I am usually willing to try new positions I’m going on record opposing this one.

When I fell I was in the back yard. My bride Management was on the sun porch. Apparently she heard the oof or maybe it was a scream. She yelled down, “Did you drop something?” “Yes, I dropped myself and I am unhappy about it.”

I got up and my knee was making some creaky crackly crunching sounds. I crept into the house like an old man which I suppose makes me a creepy old man which I have always expected to happen some day.

I’ve spent the past week in slow motion which is a problem because I can’t talk on the telephone. When I am on the phone I pace and walk in circles. If I can’t walk I can’t talk. If I can walk I can still do some work even if I can’t talk. If I can’t walk or talk I can’t make any money.

Speaking of old, you know you are getting old when the “cute young woman” you are admiring is over forty. Of course there are a lot of attractive women who are much younger than forty but they are just kids. An old man shouldn’t even look at them especially when they are younger than his own kids.

I once knew an electrician who threatened to trade his wife in for two twenty-year-olds. His wife just laughed. “You aren’t wired for 220, you’ll short circuit and burn out.”

Yesterday I was talking with a lady who said she is making some sort of craft with beanie babies. I misunderstood and thought she was skinning them and making quilts out of them. I thought that was the best use for them I’ve ever heard other than using them to throw at things.

My Yankee rooster just committed an unpardonable sin. He jumped up and spurred the Grand-brat. Now, everyone who grew up in the country around chickens has been spurred by a rooster. Roosters do that and it is just part of being a country boy.

However, spurring MY grand-brat (at this tender young age) is not allowed. While Management was putting Band-Aids on the cuts I was planning on finding a new home for Yankee. My bride Management was going for immediate capital punishment. Management was a little intense on this one. “Kill that Rooster, Kill him, Kill him now.”

I have always found a woman shouting “kill him” to be a little disconcerting.

Then some friends of ours (or maybe of Yankee’s), called and asked if they could have him. I said, “I’ll have to refer your call to the warden of Death Row. If you can convince her to commute Yankee’s sentence it is fine with me.” Yankee is now living with six new hens. More importantly, Brewster, our junior rooster, is now king of the yard. He is king that is until he even thinks about spurring one of MY Grand-brats.

The Junior Rooster had learned his place from Yankee. Junior’s place was anywhere Yankee wasn’t.

But back to my bum knee which for the record is a bad knee not a knee on a bum. Management had talked with several of her nurse friends all of whom recommended some sort of pain medication with anti-inflammatory capabilities. I had resisted on the basis that pain is Mother Nature’s way of reminding me to be gentle with my knee and that by nature I am inflammatory. Not only do I write editorials that annoy some people I like burning things. An anti-inflammatory would interfere with all of this. I went to the store, purchased a box of something for pain that was listed PM. Not being a typical consumer of such things I thought PM meant Pain Medication.

As it turned out I took it and went to sleep. It seems PM means Post Meridian and is intended to make you sleepy. I found it all confusing. I do more sleeping in the early a.m. than in the p.m. Who would have thought PM medicine would put you to sleep? Maybe I was supposed to think Prime Minister or the symbol for Promethium, or Pay Master, all of which might make me sleepy but if something is going to make me sleepy they could label it with a pillow.