Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Tuesday Tunes, vol 59 - Crawl

On Sunday, the whole family (Spouse, me, Yahoos) were sitting in church waiting for the festivities to begin.  We're on-time-is-five-minutes-early kind of people, so we do a fair share of waiting.  This is where I feel a tangent coming on, a tangent wherein I tell you all about how being on time shows respect and priority.  If you want to show respect and priority, fer cryin' out loud, arrive five minutes early.  Or at least on time.  There's also that Beat-The-Filthy-Nelsons game we've had going on for somewhere around a year, so now when we're "on" and "in competition shape" we arrive more than five minutes early so as to beat those Filthy Nelsons.

Anyway, we had many visitors on this Sunday, last.  One group of visitors was an elderly woman who arrived pushing her sweet husband in a wheel chair.  Spouse admired their little situation then whispered to me, "Will you push me around in a wheel chair when I can't walk?"

Um, HULLO?!  "I've already done that, dear."  He replied with an, "Oh yeah."

Seems Spouse forgot about his four-to-six months in the chair.  Figured he'd need a reminder.  I say it's four-to-six months, because it was four months full-time, then two more months part-time.  We had to wean him off the chair, so to speak.

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Somehow, someway, while skiing, the Spouse managed to end up with two crushed calcaneuses, or with a "bilateral calcaneus fracture" as the medical people refer to it. You prolly might want to call it a couple of crushed heel bones.  You might also be rolling your eye balls now, with, "Oh here she goes again.  She's always talking about that year that Spouse wrecked his feet."  Yes, I do talk about that year often.  It was a memorable year, one with a significant impact on how we do things around here, so naturally I feel the need to rattle my gums on-and-on about it.

Although Spouse spent four-to-six in the chair, he was somewhat lucky for he could crawl on his hands and knees.  This is quite handy (and knee-ey har har), you see, for a wheel chair does not fit in any of our bathrooms.  Wheel chairs also have a considerable amount of travel limitations.  When Spouse got himself into a situation that wasn't copacetic with Mr. Wheel Chair, he'd drop out of that chair onto hands and padded knees, then do precisely what he wanted.  He was so resourceful that way.

As a result we have some great crawling stories.  One afternoon, the four of us decided to go to a movie. So we packed the Yahoos, Spouse, and chair into the car and headed to the theater.  When we rolled into the room where the movie plays, I pushed him into the handicapped seating area, which happened to be too low for neck comfort.  Spouse said, "I don't want to sit here," then dropped onto hands 'n knees, and proceeded to crawl six rows up and over to the middle.  The theater was about half-full of movie-goers who were all staring at this poor guy crawl up the stairs and over.  No one knew how to react.  The theater went from the chomp-chomp-chomp of popcorn to a collective "gasp."   We share a good giggle over this often.

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On another occasion, Vera was out of town and I was responsible for feeding her dog.  I was out running various errands one day and realized that I was about to miss the assigned feeding time.  So I phoned Spouse.  "Will you roll up and feed Zigggy for me?"  He said sure and rolled up.  Now days, or even back in the glory days, most people do not have wheel chair ramps.  This includes Vera.  Spouse rolled around to the back and crawled into the house.  While he was in there crawling around, attending to their beloved beastie, Vera's daughter (who doesn't live there) came in with a friend.  And what did Vera's daughter and friend see?  Some strange guy crawling around their house like a burglar.

And then there was Knopfler.  Before the accident, I had secured us some spectacular seats at a Mark Knopfler gig.  Our seats were row four, center, in a place called Abravanel Hall.  Abravanel Hall is fancy.  It's where the Utah Symphony lives.  Oh! Speaking of the Utah Symphony and Abravanel Hall, my sister is singing some Romeo and Juliet with them the first weekend in November.  (Um, yeah, that's a big deal, just in case you can't see the big in that deal.) Anyway, we were late to this Knopfler show, and most everyone was in their seats.  The usher asked us if we wanted to sit in the handicapped section, to which I replied a "hell no." I wasn't about to give up my coveted front 'n center with Mark because of a measly bunch of crushed bones.  So what do I demand that Spouse do?  Crawl.  All the way to the middle.  There were gasps at this one too.

My favorite crawl story, hands and knees down (har har), is that time I left Spouse home alone and came back to him mowing the lawn.  Oh and wouldn't you know?  I have video.



By the way, it's Tuesday so today's Tuesday Tunes are about hands, knees and crawling:

Hospital Bed Crawl - The Hush Sound
Hands Clean- Alanis Morissette
Don't Let Your Feet Touch Ground - Ash Koley
Down On My Knees - Bread
Join Hands - The Cult
Twist And Crawl - The English Beat
Two Hands - Jars Of Clay
I'm Gonna Crawl - Led Zeppelin
One Foot Boy - Mika
Wounded Knee - Primus
Hands - The Raconteurs
LowDown - Tom Waits

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8 comments:

whitneyingram said...

I just laughed/cackled out loud. Thank heavens for technology and that you can film such hilarious events.

StupidBike said...

all i can think of is, Zed: Bring out the Gimp. Maynard: Gimp's sleeping. Zed: Well, I guess you're gonna have to go wake him up now, won't you?

is that wrong?

Sparks said...

Yes, but arriving on time means you give ward people the opportunity to talk to you. Strategic lateness means that you get to slide in the back and avoid friendly chat before the meetings and slip quietly out the back to avoid post-meeting chitchat.

Winder said...

My favorite is when he crawled through my parents garage in his "Sunday Best" to attend my baby's blessing. The look on my in-law's faces!
Then to have the "authorities" wonder why we had a chair set out for the event. As if we thought the baby would sit in it. Ha!

Jessica said...

I'm with Megan. I sit in the back and then I text people while eating Goldfish crackers. (I really wish I wasn't kidding about that...)

rabidrunner said...

Whitney, glad you got a laugh out of it. We laugh uncontrollably. Sometimes.

Stupid, yes that's wrong. Very wrong. There's nothing gimpy about my Spouse. Except for perhaps when I dress him in leathers, chain him up, and whip him 'til he bleeds.

Sparks, no one talks to me because I'm cold-hearted bitch. Therefore no need to worry about arrival times.

Winder, that was a good one. I forgot about that!

Jessica, do you eat goldfish at church? People will think you're pregnant, you know.

Buddy the Elf said...

Those Filthy Nelsons! I heard they won this week. Is is true????

Julia said...

I LOVED this post! I never have anything clever to say, so I don't always comment, but this post was a true winner. I seriously cannot even imagine some of those situations; they are unreal! I was really glad for the video so I could get a better visual.