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Archive for October, 2017

All That Fall

There are days when life at Stratford Palace flows as smoothly as butter and honey over a warm croissant.

And then there are days like today.

Having arisen at 4:07 to serve gushy food to two ravenous cats, the caretaker shuffled back to the comfort of her bed, thankful for Caturday mornings. When the alarm sounded at 7:00 am, she rolled out of bed, slipped on her sandals, and headed to the kitchen to switch on the shiny new coffeemaker.

But a funny, not-funny, thing happened on the way to the coffee. One minute the caretaker was striding down the hallway and into the dining room, owning life in all its glory, and the next minute her forward motion was cut short as her right foot was accidentally introduced to the left side of a furry beast who was snoozing in the middle of the floor.

As an aside, let us now take an inventory of the designated sleeping surfaces in the palace:

  • a large couch
  • a large chair
  • six smaller chairs
  • two twin beds
  • a cot
  • four cat beds, including Sock Monkey and a covered cave bed
  • four boxes lined with blankets

All of them are clean, soft, and inviting. None of them is in the designated walking spaces. Yet Buddy was sleeping in the middle of the cold, hard floor, directly in the path between the bedroom and the kitchen.

But we digress.

Being a law-abiding citizen, the caretaker was careful to observe Newton’s first law of motion. Her uniform motion in a straight line was compelled to change its state by the presence of the sleeping external force, to wit, 14 pounds of muscle, bones, and fur. She also obeyed the second law of motion; her velocity changed when her foot met the previously mentioned external force. Further, she¬†obeyed the law of gravity. All of that forward motion thwarted in mid-stride had to go somewhere, and that was down. Meanwhile, the cat’s inertia had immediately converted into hysteria, as he scampered off to avoid the falling object, to wit, the caretaker (weight undisclosed).

All the while, the caretaker’s frantic brain was continually reassessing the situation. Should she try to catch herself? No, that could cause even more damage. Should she yell really loudly and hope the force of her voice will buoy her up? No, that’s not even a thing. Should she fall as gracefully as possible and hope for the best? Welp, there’s really no other choice.

So she did a Humpty-Dumpty right there in the middle of the dining room.

For a few awkward minutes, she lay stretched out upon the floor, moaning through a wellness check on her limbs. Then she sat up, wincing, and Buddy slowly approached. He stared solemnly into her face as if to say, “Are you going to going to be okay? Because if you’re not, you need to call someone to come over here and feed us. Now.”

Overcome by his concern, the caretaker slowly stood up and began learning to walk again, with almost as much grace as Frankenstein’s monster. Almost.

A quick internet search indicates that there are anywhere from 650 to 840 muscles in the human body. If the caretaker’s level of pain is a good indicator, there are exactly 841, and they have banded together to challenge the constitutionality of the laws of physics.

Despite the caretaker’s agony, her love for Buddy has not waned. After all, who could resist this face?

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