After a long day of yard work in the hot sun, we were both anticipating the reward of an icy brew and the chance to rest our bones. We never expected the opportunity to laugh ourselves stupid over my humiliation, too. This is always a bonus.
Feeling good about all that we had accomplished, we wiped the sweat off of our faces and kicked our muddy shoes to the side as we entered the house.
I cracked a cold one and meandered to the sun room, aiming my ginormous buttocks for my hammock chair. I eased myself down into it, and wasn’t there for more than one second when it happened.
My largeness finally had its way with the connection to the ceiling; the rope broke and I crashed to the floor in one very unattractive heap. In the next three seconds, five pounds of cross bar and chains came crashing down on my head, while the sound of my impact made the cat jump straight up into the air and screech. He beat feet into the house with the dog in hot pursuit and barking, thinking she needed to kill the cat. The force of the impact also made my beer suds up and foam down the sides of the bottle. Meanwhile, Kevin was ten feet away from me in the kitchen and had no idea what had happened. He started yelling at the animals and chased after them to try to figure out why they were behaving this way and to stop their behavior, while I continued to lie on the floor of the sun room, covered in chains, cross bars and continually foaming beer, laughing my fool ass off.
He reappeared a few moments later and saw my predicament. He felt terrible that he’d been chasing the animals while I laid flat on my back on the floor in a tangled, chained up, beer sudsy mess. I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to even allow him to assist me up.
He felt so awful, that he ordered a new chair for me that very night. I was just relieved that my enormous girth didn’t break through the floor boards and deposit me in the crawlspace under that room. Maybe God is saving that little trick for the next time my chair breaks.