Yesterday’s corner time: 7 Minutes.
Well, predictably, Dad returned home yesterday from the Tennis club hobbling. The only surprising thing about this, considering his proneness to injury, was that he was actually still alive.
Apparently, having safely completed two sets before poor light stopped play, it was on his way to the net to shake his opponent’s hand that he somehow managed to cripple himself.
After hurting himself playing golf, I think Dad was reluctant to admit that he had sustained yet another injury and initially, pretended that nothing was wrong. It was only after he howled with pain when Becca knelt on his foot as she stormed past him on the stairs, that the truth came to light.
It was bad enough when Dad fell down a hole playing golf but it now appears that even walking is a potentially hazardous pastime.
Dad always compares his body to a highly coiled spring - a finely tuned and supremely fit piece of apparatus that treads the fine line between outstanding performance and hospitalization.
Mum compares his body to that of a knackered horse that should be shot as an act of mercy by anyone who happens to be passing.
Matthew.
Related Posts: Anyone for Tennis?
About Me
- Matthew
- I'm Matthew, I'm 6 years old. I have a Mum, a Dad and an annoying, 4 year old sister, Becca. I started writing this blog when I was two. I had more time on my hands in those days. Becca wasn't even born and I didn't have to attend school for every waking hour. Still, whenever I can, I get up to mischief and I document my adventures here.
1 comment:
Hey Emily,
From what I remember from my studies on Gravitational laws, our Dad's should probably move to the moon if they wish to continue their sporting endeavours.
We haven't yet been camping again but apparently, just mooting the mere possiblity causes the heavens to unleash the mother of all storms.
I'm beginning to think that we should have bought a boat instead!
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