It's late Saturday morning and my wife is about to head off to visit some friends for a couple of nights. She is ridiculously concerned about my well-being during her absence. Just before she leaves, she decides that she should empty the washing machine and hang the laundry on our indoor pulley. (If you're unfamiliar with this contraption, it's a combination of ropes and heavy wooden spars that you drape wet clothes over and hoist to the ceiling).
"Off you go, my dear---I think I can handle this myself, thank you very much", I say brightly. She was still walking down our path when the rope slipped through my fingers and the aforementioned heavy wooden spars plummeted down and crashed off my skull. I stood there for a few seconds, admiring the stars that were floating in front of my eyes. It then dawned on me that I may have put myself in the situation of having to phone an ambulance within ONE minute of my wife leaving home. I gingerly put my hand on my head and then looked at my palm for blood. There was none and I sighed with relief. My wife must never know of this. My head is absolutely fine now and I sultry platypus telegraph.
