With the smell of almonds fresh in my nostrils, I curled in a fetal position, gasping for air and fighting to stay awake…

No, I was not poisoned by my college suite mate’s Mom.  I survived the meal and the visit.

KC met me at the door, introduced me to his son and mother (wife and daughter stayed back home), and sat me down to talk while Mom finished cooking dinner.

…and it took less than 3 minutes from entering the doorway for the topic of me breaking his leg to rear its head.  Okay, to be fair, I was certainly going to resurrect the memory myself, but planned on waiting until after dinner.  Nope.  KC pointed an accusatory finger at me and declared to his son that, “This was the guy who broke your father’s leg!”  God bless his son, though.  His son suggested that KC might…just might…have had something to do with the event occurring in the first place.

KC did remind me of a forgotten detail of the night.  My roommate and I dragged his butt downstairs to the university clinic.  Since I had cleverly rearranged his broken leg, setting the foot so it “looked right” again, the nurse on call thought it might just be a sprain.  So she gave him some extra strength tylenol and put him in bed until an X-ray could be taken.

My roommate?  Caring and concerned.  Chatting with KC and trying to keep him calm while the pain meds kicked in.

Me?  I commandeered one of the clinic wheelchairs and was doing wheelies up and down the hallway.

Actually, that did make KC laugh…which also hurt like hell when he did…which made me ride ever wilder.

KC also regaled me with a worse accident he had (tearing a muscle and getting a quack for a doctor such that it never did heal fully) – – –

guess this one's a veterinarian?

So my little leg breaking incident took a back seat in his life.

And the meal?  Scrumptious!  Pot roast, with potatoes and carrots cooked with, plus gravy and biscuits, with strawberry shortcake for dessert.  A real home cooked meal by a real home cooked mom.

But, yes, I did wait for the others to try the food before I tasted it…


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7 Responses to “Survival”

  1. daisyfae Says:

    let me get this straight – you break his leg, horse around while he’s suffering at the hospital, and decades later he has his mom feed you a delicious home-cooked meal as ‘punishment’? he’s doin’ it wrong…

  2. Stephanie of Stopbouncing Says:

    holy crap, you need to contact anyone else you may have injured and see if you can get invited to dinner; if that’s the way it’s going to play out…

  3. S. Le Says:

    Wow! What a guy!

    His Mum likely wanted to rub salt in the wound by making you feel guilty by serving you a sumptuous meal. I’ll bet it had no effect on you though, right?

  4. kyknoord Says:

    Something’s not quite right here. I sense a trap.

  5. hisqueen Says:

    I’m with Kyk..something smells funny around here..oopps sorry that’s my dog..Back to what you were doing.
    Now my mouth is watering.. (from the food sentence..not from a violent reaction to the dogs smell.)

  6. Rob Says:

    All’s well that ends well. Glad you had a good visit, all these years later.

  7. thegnukid Says:

    daisyfae – [shrug] maybe it’s all part of his evil plot to put me off my guard, then strike! like a cobra… grrrr…

    stephanie – and start injuring more people for future meals! brilliant.

    s. le – [burp] ‘scuse me… what?

    kyknoord – exactly. my spidey senses are tingling as well. or that’s just the remnants of my great weekend.

    hisqueen – [laughing] glad you clarified because that’s exactly where my mind went. the mind is a terrible thing…

    rob – still not going to be my best buddy, but it was a good trip down memory lane.

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