…step on a line and your mama drinks wine…step on a crack and break your _____’s back…don’t touch the stove—cause it’s hot!
How many times have we each been told…how many times did I have to touch the stove anyway? Just because…just because…just because I needed the experience? …did I really need to burn my hand or did my misplaced ego need to be hard headed? Did I really need such an arse kicking that I wouldn’t listen to trainers telling the entire team to “warm up” before engaging….
As my dear grandmother, Florence Francis and many other Grannies said, “A hard head makes for a soft behind!” Here I stand, 60+ years later with an erector-set like portfolio of x-rays of my lower extremities, touting an eye-opening blend of bone-chromium and titanium rods, beams, balls and spikes…with screws and plastic too!
I asked my dear Wife~Life-Partner~Soulmate, Dr. Carol Penn, “was my head so hard that I needed this level of ass-kicking ?” As we prepare for another major surgical procedure, on a degenerative set of bones, I wonder about my destiny, mortality and mountains left to move.
Feets won’t fail me ever, because it’s always my decision to stop, sit or forge ahead!