My beautiful wife had knee surgery on Thursday, and it was a long time coming.
For anyone who watched her hobble around for two years, you know how much she needed to get it done.
The boys called her:
"Our pet seal."
And it all went fine.
"It doesn't even hurt," she announced a few hours after having it done.
"That's the exact mentality that made me climb a ladder the day I had it done," I said. "The anesthesia will wear off. You'll see."
But the thing about life is that no one really ever listens to anyone.
"Why does it hurt so much?" She asked me just 36 hours later.
I wanted to laugh...
Of course we've been married long enough for me to say "I told you!"
Yet we have all done our part.
Sam, who has long been our legs around here, gets the phone chargers, carries Kathy's stuff around and puts it into her next room, Jake is making the frozen lemonade runs to Tim Horton's and I'm doing the cooking, laundry, getting groceries.
(I made a breakfast sandwich on Saturday that was worth about $15 at your local diner).
(I had two).
And we have allowed crime shows on television hour after hour after hour after hour.
Yet there have been problems:
My crutches are a bit too large for her, and Poor Paris is not a fan. She spots the crutches in one room and runs away.
"How long does the pain last?" Kathy asked.
"It's a bad first week...the second week is a little better...then you're good," I said. "Just don't climb a ladder."
"Can't even imagine that," she said.
Yet, she's on the mend.
"Why are you up so early?" Kathy asked on Saturday morning by 6 a.m.
"Pain," I said.
What a pair.
We hobbled down the stairs and put on a crime show.
"This really sucks," Kathy said.
"You still milking this?" Sam asked a bit later.
Gonna' be a fun couple of weeks!
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