We were sitting together on the couch and I was listening as my wife was telling me all about her training, and the annoying chairs (that she opted out of sitting in and found a squishy chair instead), and the other giantess of a lady who did the same thing, and who she ate lunch with, and how many vegetables she consumed on average. I tell you it is always fun to hear how many vegetable wraps she's eaten, but this is love my dear children, this is love. The positive is that she liked her trainers and she'll have some fun information to bring back to the first grade team.
So, again we were sitting on the couch, when in the midst of her conversation she shouts;
"I can't get up!"
"What are you talking about?"
"My leg. I can't move it!" she cries, while trying to wiggle her leg out from underneath her.
(My wife has a habit of tucking one leg underneath herself when she sits down. I've told her many times not to do it because it kills circulation. I assumed this is what this was. I was wrong.)
"Uhh, do you want me to pull on your leg?" I ask.
"Yes! It hurts!" she moans and hollers as she is closing her eyes to try to push out the pain.
I tug her leg out from underneath her while she cries out in pain.
"I told you not to sit on your leg like that. It always falls asleep."
"It's not that! I think the baby is sitting on my nerve or something! My hip!"
"I thought it was your leg."
Now this starts to worry me. Big surprise there. I worry about her falling off the bed (well, I used to before we got a King size.) I worry about her tripping. She was never all that stable. I worry about pretty much anything you can think of, but then I stop myself and remember that we've been teaching our kiddos at Youth Group, to worry about nothing, instead pray about everything!
After she sits a while with her leg stretched out, I ask if it feels better.
"Not really, and I have to pee," she says.
"You can't even move your leg, how are you going to get to the bathroom?"
"You're going to help me!" she says matter of factly.
"Do you want me to find a cane?" I ask.
I heft her up while she is wiggling and wobbling and weedling and whittling, and we make our way to the bathroom as she limps slowly across the living room, which is probably about 6 steps. She does indeed have enough time to tell me a backstory about how this type of thing used to happen to her mother's hip, and I kindly shook my head and helped her along.
The hallway that leads to the bathroom is still littered with our old Queen sized bed that we haven't wrapped up and stored in the garage yet.
"We may have a problem, I don't know how we're going to both fit through the hallway with the bed taking up 3/4 of the room.
"Just pull me through!" she cries.
She eventually gets in and does her thing, and by the time she comes back out, the hip attack has mostly subsided.
"I think it's because I was sitting down most of the day today."
"Let me know if you need anymore help limpy."
I don't even know if I can describe the visceral horror and complete hilarity of the situation that was truly happening. Maybe I can make an indie film about it. I have to tell you, watching her limp around and act so ridiculous brings back such fond memories of the past, one of which I'll share with you today.
On our very first outing as friends many years ago, we took a day and went to Vero Beach and observed the ocean for the first time since moving to Florida. We were just getting to know each other and I found it curious how very adamant she was on bringing a giant beach umbrella with her.
"It's so huge!"
"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm a redhead and I burn."
"Okay, that's cool. You know how to put it up right? It's kind of wobbling in the wind."
"Yes! Of course I do!"
(Clearly she didn't, because later that day, the wind picked the umbrella up and it went tearing across the beach like a heat seeking missile headed straight for an older woman who was tanning her already tanned and leathery exterior. If I hadn't gotten there in time to stop the umbrella, it probably would have impaled the poor lady. Unless her skin was tough enough, I don't know.)
At one point we were playing in the water like little kids, jumping the waves, floating in the massive natural wave pool. The water was cool and so refreshing. We were just about to get out, when a giant wave knocked Kim on her butt. She struggled to get back up, but just as she did another wave took her down. Then another wave knocked her down. She was almost up again and then she was down. It only occurred to me after watching her flail for like 3 minutes that I should probably help her, which I did, but I guess I kept thinking she'd be able to get up on the next one. She tells me that I was laughing during this event, but I don't recall those details.
Comic By Bitstrips