There is an elephant sitting on my chest. He’s the usual variety of elephant …gray skin, trunk, big ears, weighs a lot.
He’s kind of cute, but his trunk keeps smashing my left boob and it makes me screech and cough and fall back on the sofa in despair. He’s also whacked my head a couple of times. I can tell cause of the excruciating pain radiating from the front of my face.
I guess the next step is to name him, but then eventually I know he will leave me and I’ll start to breathe and get off the sofa and move around and become productive again. I hope such will be the case anyway.
I don’t think I will miss him when he exits. Actually I can’t wait for him to leave.
I’ve tried Tussin, thinking he wouldn’t like the taste. I didn’t like the taste, but he just sat and twirled his trunk around and smashed my boob again.
I called the doctor’s office, thinking they might be capable of surgically removing the elephant.
The doctor has her own elephant.
Reminds me of ’Funny Girl’. Does anyone remember this very old Barbra Streisand movie? I think it might have been her first big break. Great movie. Looks like me and my elephant are showing our ages.
Anyway the lyrics to one of the songs go something like this:
“I got a cold in my nose, oh I got a cold in my nose.
Went to see the doctor, asked him what to do.
Lordy help the doctor, he said, ‘ I think I got one too.’
So we laid down, side by side. I’m still here, but the doctor died.
I got a cold in my nose.”
Catchy tune too. I have sung that lyric more times than I can say.
Sang it this morning to see if the elephant would budge. It did not have any effect on him, although I believe his eyebrows lifted in an expression of disdain over my singing.
Now I ask you, who could sing with an elephant on her/his chest?
I know I shouldn’t complain about him. He had to find a new home, somebody apparently wanted rid of him. I didn’t want him, even temporarily. But he insisted on staying. I’m such a sucker for a pretty face.
No, I think it’s Bob’s fault.
Yes, definitely Bob’s fault. Bob has been blamed.
Wonder if Vick’s Vapo Rub would send him away…the elephant, not Bob. The smell would send me away.
I guess I could pack his trunk and we could go away together.
Or take a nap.