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.
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