Anyone who knows me knows that I love to cuss like smokers like to smoke. After I found out that baby bean was coming, many promises were made to eliminate my cussing habit. Really, you don't want to be the parent that has the kid who says "fuck" in preschool. I've been very good with kicking the habit (in my opinion) except when under extensive stress, like the fridge problem.
Anyway, today my friend was using my beloved treadmill (one of my most treasures possessions), which is fine as i only need it for an hour and a half a day afterall, when suddenly there was a banging sound and the treadmill died. I had a feeling I knew that the problem was. A few weeks back Mandolin found a box of domino tiles and put them inside the treadmill and under the belt. I got some out, but there were over fifty in the damned box and I'm only one person, plus the treadmill worked fine even though it made a tinkling sound if one ran fast.
Now, most sane people would have said "let's leave it alone, we're idiots and can't fix a treadmill." Apparently my friend and I are not sane people, keep that in mind. So, after 30 or so minutes of messing with stuff that probably shouldn't be messed with (it was my job to distract the baby and hold the flashlight) we ran into a small problem with the treadmill. This resulted in two fingers on my right hand being injured. It hurt so bad, i swear i felt it in my hair. My first instinct was to use all of the glorious nasty words I was taught while working as an engineer. They all flashed through my head in a way I'd imagine my life would have if I was in danger of death. I didn't say one of them. I took a deep breath and then a few more, backed away from the evil, vile, horrible treadmill that mangled my poor fingers and didn't teach my kid any nasty words.
The ring and pinky fingers on my right hand are a lovely shade of purple that Kathryn would appreciate. My friend and later my guy were so amazed at my control and ability to keep it clean, that my guy bought my an elliptical and made an appointment to have the treadmill looked at by someone who isn't an idiot. I never thought I'd see the day where I didn't lament my promise to keep it clean.
Were you at least saying them in your mind, or were you just too busy thinking about not thinking about them?
ReplyDeletePost a photo of your gorgeous purple fingers!
ReplyDelete(Kudos for you for keeping your mouth shut; many, many years ago, our daughter was at the same age, and cheerfully and loudly saying "fils de putain! fils de putain!" every chance she got for about a week.)
Bert, the words were flashing through my mind and i was swallowing the urge to shout them out as loud as i could.
ReplyDeletejilly
An elliptical machine is more fun than a treadmill anyway. (Hi Bert.)
ReplyDeleteMrs. Tree, Mrs. Tree, Mrs. Tree ...
ReplyDeleteI disagree about the elyptical being more fun - I loathe elyptical days - they are easier on your joints.
ReplyDeleteI guess we agree to disagree, moi. I find the elliptical to be much easier on the joints and also to have a very tight buttock muscle when all is said and done. If I had an elliptical machine at home, I might never get off of it.
ReplyDelete"...a very tight buttock muscle..."
ReplyDeleteMrs. Tree, Mrs. Tree, Mrs. Tree!
I agree with all those things Tree - I just don't like the elyptical as much as the treadmill. The elyptical has done wonders for my butt. The treadmill bangs the hell out of my poor ankle but, 60 minutes on the elypical just seems much longer than 60 minutes on the treadmill - don't ask me why.
ReplyDelete-Mel who couldn't get Blogger to accept her LJ ID today.
I did ask if my gym would consider putting one of the spinning bikes down in the 24 hour gym.