A couple days ago I strained my back while lifting and moving some heavy boxes in the basement. I’ve done that before—lifting heavy objects improperly-- with the same result so I should know better. You know how they always tell you to lift with your legs and not with your back? Well, I’m not good at following advice, especially really good advice. Consequently, I hurt my back.
There has been a lot of moaning and groaning and grimaces since that incident. All of it by me. I have to play up the hurt –even exaggerate a little-in order to get the sympathy I so richly deserve. Unfortunately, my whining has fallen on mostly deaf ears. I think se may be onto my act. But not to worry, I have a few cards up my sleeve to play whenever I need to pump up the sympathy meter. There’s the frightened gasp that escapes me whenever I rise from a chair and momentarily lose my balance and fall/sit back down. That always gets her attention and elicits a few “be carefuls” and offers to help me get up. I can usually count on an offer to take my arm whenever I employ the feeble old man act. And there’s always the reliable PD shuffle if I want to sit in a wheelchair and be chauffeured around instead of having to walk. Soft and nearly inaudible whimpering in a corner of the next room is sometimes good for “what’s wrong, Baby.” Since I have a compromised sense of balance her antennae twitch anytime I approach a stairway. If I really want to get her riled up I can “stumble “ on the stairs. The coup de grace would be an actual tumble down those steps. That’ll boost the sympathy quotient off the charts.
I just wish I could get all that attention and sympathy without actually hurting myself. I haven’t quite figured that part out.