Saturday, July 30, 2011


Disclaimer of sorts- I recognize that I am truly blessed to be able to walk on both legs, which some individuals can’t. But, this is a humor article (hopefully) and we humans have got to maintain our humor in the face of adversity.

First off, let us dispose of the question you have for me, “what does your left leg have to do with the misfortunes of Friday the 13th?”

The obvious answers are that I was born on the 25th, which is only 12 days away from the date in question and my left leg is a definite misfortune.

Also, I recently had a left knee operation to repair a torn cartilage performed on Friday the 18th ( which is getting substantially closer to the 13th ) and the knee always has a tendency to “act up” on the Friday the 13th.

Upon a through search of the dictionary as well as the ever popular Thesaurus, other than those four compelling facts, I can find no additional answers.

“O.K. then what is your complaint with your left leg?” you ask.

It is specifically when I try to put a sock on the foot of my left leg.

Everything reacts as it is supposed to on my right leg. I can cross my right leg over my left leg with ease and apply the sock with a beaming smile on my face.

But, when it comes to applying the same set of socks to my left leg/foot it is an entirely different matter.

At this point my left leg somewhat reminds me of a wet noodle draped over an ironing board.

And to keep my left leg in the same position long enough to put on a sock is one big expectation that, in my lifetime, has never been realized.

Never one to be discouraged I withdraw my left leg, which I place straight in front of me.

I then attempt application of the sock from a frontal direction.

The only problem I encounter with the frontal approach, is that I can never seem to reach my foot, irrespective of the amount of leg bending.

In that I refuse to wear a sock on one foot and not on the other, I continue the maneuver.

I then bend my leg in front of me which would probably accept the application of the sock easily, but there has been so much perspiration dripped onto it from my former attempts that it will not go on my foot at all.

So after calling my wife to dry out the sock for fifteen minutes in the clothes dryer I am ready to resume my pursuit.

However, this time it is not alone.

I coyly request my wife to assist me. If that doesn’t work, I beg.

She instructs me to lie horizontal on my back on the bed, with my leg straight up.

She glides the sock on with ease until it gets caught on one of my toenails, which I have not seen the necessity to cut in six years, and rips.

Fortunately, according to her, the tear is in an area that “won’t be seen,” so we proceed.

I firmly believe that an individual should exercise. I have a schedule where I do a few sit-ups, bench presses, neck exercises and walk a mile but an aerobics expert told me that if I decide to put on my socks that day, that the schedule is not necessary.

With the assistance of my wife, I then go through gyrations that I thought were impossible.

Finally with my left leg over my right shoulder, my wife applies my sock with forcible ease ( the astute reader will notice the forcible part, which created another a tear. Fortunately, this tear was also un-noticeable.)

I thanked my wife for her assistance in this 35 minute ordeal.

Now there is only one thing that remains in my dressing process.

Putting on the necktie, which never seems to come out the right length.

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