Cut

FootI was supposed to join my wife for a school fundraiser trivia event tonight. Food, grog (more grog than food I’m told), tricky trays, raffles, etc., except I got cut.

Literally cut.

I’m lying on the couch with my left foot bandaged up from yesterday’s surgery in which a portion of me was excised in order for doctors to perform a pathology.

Surprisingly, I’m less worried about a potentially life-threatening diagnosis of Stage 4 Foot Cancer, and more concerned about appearing sloth-like and needy to my family. It’s a role I am unaccustomed to playing.

While lying on my back with foot elevated watching college basketball and not being held accountable for anything is soothing to my soul, not to mention conducive to posting about it here, I can’t help feeling guilty for not being more productive.

Funny, I’m thinking less about a possible death sentence being delivered to me by my podiatrist next week, and more about how bummed out I feel because I can’t get down on the floor and help my son with his new LEGO acquisition. Oh well, I suppose I’ll have to suffer through watching another exciting college basketball game. Who is it now? Duke vs. North Carolina for the ACC division title? Oh, woe is me.

To make matters worse, my wife just walked out the door looking smokin’ hot and smelling divine.

Smokin' Hot Wife
Must. Heal. Quickly.

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