Where’s My Cane?

Thump, thump, thump, thump!

“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Stalking.”
“Stalking?”
“Yeah, stalking. You know, like a lion on the hunt?”
“A lion. On the hunt.”
“Exactly.”
*sigh*
“What?”
“We’re supposed to be putting the hurt on this guy, not ‘stalking’ him.”
“Oh, no worries there man, I’ve got a plan.”
“You have a plan? This I’ve got to hear.”
“Ooo, sarcasm. Did you learn that in drama class, or did you think it up all on your own?”
“I’m going to hit you…”
“Fine, fine, I’ll tell you. No need to get so grumpy.”
“I ain’t grumpy, I’m just a little tired. I didn’t have a good night’s sleep last night.”
“Maybe it’s all the snoring.”
“For the last time, I do NOT snore!”
“OK, OK, you don’t snore. But if you did, and I’m not saying you do, I’m just saying if you did, you might want to try one of those nose strip thingies. I hear they really work wonders…”
“…”
“What?”
“Now I’m getting grumpy.”
“That’s not good for your mental and emotional well being. Maybe you should take one of those emotional stabilizer-type drugs or something…”

*SMACK*

“Ow! You are grumpy!”
“If you don’t tell me your stupid plan soon I’m going to get even grumpier.”
“Fine. My plan is to wait until he’s busy doing something physically strenuous and then give him the once over. This will serve the dual purposes of maximizing his feelings of pain and discomfort whilst decreasing our pain inducing efforts thus making the Brain even happier.”
“…”
“What?”
“You know something? That’s actually a good plan.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes, I believe I do.”
“Well then, do I have permission to be proud of myself?”
“Yes, you do.”
“Then I shall now preen and look smug.”
“…”
“…”
“Are you finished?”
“A moment more…”
*sigh*
“OK, now I’m done.”
“Thank you. So, what are we supposed to be waiting for him to do before we put this plan of yours in action?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking it would be best to wait until… LOOK!”
“What?!”
“He’s going to try to lift that heavy suitcase and carry it up the stairs! This is perfect! We should do it now!”
“What, right now?”
“No, even better. Let’s wait until after he’s picked up the heavy bag and is about halfway up the stairs.”
“Oh. Oh! That’s perfect! He’ll never see this coming.”
“OK, he’s got the bag and is heading for the stairs. On the count of three. One… Two…”

This is what ran through my mind as I tumbled down the stairs after my right knee gave out while carrying a heavy bag this afternoon. I can only imagine that my brain is now laughing at me as I moan and groan my way around my apartment trying hard not to us my knees when I walk. Or when I sit down. Or stand up.

Getting old sucks ass.