My dear old Mom used to say quite often, ‘..these things are sent to try us’ which usually meant she was having a bad day. It would puzzle me as to precisely who sent these things and why did they do it. Moving on a few years, well, quite a lot of years, I think I have finally found her reasoning behind that saying.
Monday morning was the usual start of the week for me. Wake up, although I had been awake half the night, get out of bed and make my way to the bathroom. Shower shave and all the usual morning rituals before getting dressed and heading off to the kitchen to make that pot of tea.
Kettle on, tea bags in a pot and off to sit and relax while the magic happens. Living room, draw the curtains and a quick look at the world outside and sit down on the couch. Ouch!!! Was there a drawing pin or sewing needle on the cushion and although I usually have difficulty getting off the couch (see other post ), I got up pretty fast after that sudden sharp pain.
What Was That?
It felt exactly like a needle or if you can imagine a small crocodile biting into your backside, that’s the best way I can describe the pain. I looked and rubbed my hand gingerly over the cushion, but nothing! I went out to the kitchen to finish making the tea and returned to the living room. I thought this time I am going to sit on the other couch, I’m not making the same mistake again!
OUCH!! Exactly the same thing again!! What the heck is going on? As it turns out, it didn’t matter where I chose to sit, the excruciating pain was the same. It then dawned on me that it must be me, not the furniture. A quick visit to the bathroom to look at my bottom in the mirror. Well, it’s just impossible (as Perry Como sang) to even get a glimpse of my backside without being some sort of contortionist. Whatever was causing the pain was well hidden from normal view.
Then my wife appeared on the scene and she could see me twisting and turning in front of the bathroom mirror as though I was on fire! “What on earth are you up to?” she asked. I mumbled something about not being able to sit down without feeling as though I was being stabbed in the buttocks. “Oh let me have a look” and within a second she said she could see a ‘pluke’ a big spot to you and me that looked very sore.
What is a man to do? I just want a quiet life, to be able to sit on my couch in peace and quiet. This damn ‘pluke’ was painful and although I managed to sit, very uncomfortably and sometimes forgetting about it, very painfully too, it lasted for a couple of days before the beast decided to do whatever ‘plukes’ do and disappear.
Yep, things were sent to try us, my Mom was right, they certainly are. If you would like to know the definition of Pluke, here it is.