"What the heck is all this about?"
All who venture here will no doubt wonder.
Well, my feet can talk and by gum they are going to 'drop me in it!' as the proverbial saying goes. Hope you like it.
"Golly you look awful! I've never seen a redder, more swollen apology for a limb for ages! And just think we both used to look great! Everyone admired Eddie's legs until a couple of years ago and now look at us, particularly you! You look dreadful!"
"You're a fine one to talk! Just look in a mirror! I don't know how you manage to support his weight when he walks - I find it a struggle and I'm stronger. And he's thrown his wretched walking sticks away, the inconsiderate so and so. It's much harder for us now and he is so demanding. He never lets us have a rest or put our feet up."
"Let's face it we both are not what we used to be, particularly after his total hip replacement in February. It was on your side and you looked pitiful and of course I had to compensate for months and months both before and after the operation because you were not up to the job. It's a wonder the poor chap didn't walk in circles, you were so useless."
"I'll kick you if you persist with these insults. You are always putting your foot in it! Remember, on the way to the operating theatre you said, 'break a leg' when a simple 'good luck' would do. Oh I'm hopping mad! Ouch! That's the last time I try that but shut up or I'll kick you! - oh! maybe not - that won't do either of us any good. Let's try to be civil to one another."
"Talking sense at last, OK. Do you remember his first steps?"
"Yes, the little lad did great, didn't he? He must have been about 6 months old. Maggie was there and remember we heard her screaming at their Mum, "Eddie's running!"
"Yes, I remember the little chap used my leg first . . . . . "
"No . . . . it was my leg!"
"No it wasn't, it was me . . . he put my left leg forward and then yours quickly, then me, then yours and then he started screaming as he raced across the room. He couldn't stop because if he did he would go base over apex! Remember he was leaning forward just like the Olympic sprinter, Valerie Borsoff!"
"He crashed into the rocking chair just as his Mum arrived and we had a good chuckle. No harm done - no bones broken and the little mite soon stopped crying."
"But he got up again and did it again and then again . . . . . over and over! He ran everywhere - into the garden and back into the house. He ran us off our feet then and has done the same ever since. He never walked, did he? He was always running. And it is the same with him in life. Still he always tries to run before he walks and it has got him into some big time trouble. You'd think he'd learn his lesson but he never does."
"Remember when he was about nine? His Mum started crying, quite out of the blue? His Daddy asked his Mother what was the matter? 'It's Eddie's legs, they are so thin, do you think they will be alright?' Do you remember we rolled on the floor laughing and poor Eddie wondered where we were taking him. He fell over and his Mum thought his legs were very weak and she started crying again."
"Will his legs be alright, indeed! He became a good runner at school, ran long distance for his house and the school. Again, we had lots of extra work but our complains went unheeded, as they always do. He just rubbed nasty horse lineament ointment into our muscles or that dreadful Deep Heat - it was awful and stunk the place to High Heaven."
"Just look at the hundreds and hundreds of miles we have carried him during his road running when he used to run on the balls of his feet. He built us up real good and we were super fit! And all the ladder work we did for him for 15 years, up and down, up and down all day long."
"Remember when the boxer dog joined him for an eight mile run and followed him all the way until he returned and the dog gave a playful half bark as a "Cheerio" and carried on his way."
"And the Alsation dog grabbing his arm like a police dog! Good job he let him go!"
"Not very fast at 100 metres and 440 was he?"
"That was you fault because my leg moved much quicker than your's - you were a lazy so and so! - and still are."
"No, I just pace myself, like Janine does now. At leat she says that on her latest post."
"Trouble with him is that he thinks he is still young, and from the waist up he is in pretty good 'nick' I suppose. His cardio vascular system at least gives us a good supply of oxygen but our veins do not work as well as they should to get the blood back to the lungs to get rid of this dreadful carbon dioxide and vile waste products."
"It's all his fault because he keeps us standing around while he does aimless tasks, hour after hour, day after day, week after week, month after month and then when he does that wretched blogging he makes us sit around motionless for hours on end - no good at all for us legs!"
"No wonder he got DVT - he didn't even make us walk him every day - that would have been much better. And as for his exercise, he's just forgotten about them because of all this refurb work."
"And as for telling us to get ready to play footsie with that charming Marguerite he is always visiting, he must be joking!"
"Yes and he is always on about this Cajun Waltz he wants us to do - he is rubbish at dancing because he has two left feet!"
"Speak for yourself! One of you is quite enough thank you. I am his right foot if you please - I keep him on the straight and narrow and I will be able to master 1,2,3 - 1,2,3 soon thank you very much."
"This gal is really giving him the run around and he just cannot see it! The man is deluding himself because he would not recognise her even if he saw her. All he has is a tiny photo of a bird in a red sports car waving at him, a lady wearing shades and another in a nice pink jumper but now off the blog. She will not show him in which videos she is dancing and she refuses to say whether she is the lady in the swimming pool shown on one of her header photos . . . . . and when once asked whether she liked the look of us when we were fit and normal she replied she would not touch that question with a barge pole!"
"And I do not blame her. But oh! he only does all this to make her laugh - he loves amusing people, especially her, and we think she enjoys a bit of fun with him. He loves pulling peoples' legs and putting people on the spot with his silly questions - just look at that idiotic ice cream one he uses on his roast . . . and he is thinking of using another one, 'You are facing a firing squad - what would be your last wish? (no you cannot ask them to calculate pi to the last decimal place.)' "
" Right, I think we have got to have all this out with him. He is doing us no good whatsoever!"
"Agreed! Shall I call him or you?"
"I'll do it!
Eddie, your right and left foot would like to have a few moments of your time if you don't mind."
"Hello! Did I detect life somewhere south of my waist? - I was beginning to wonder whether you were bereft of life and had gone to meet your maker!" "Hello! Can you hear me down there? Is there anyone there? Come on! Come on! Speak up! Come on! Come on! I haven't got all night!"
"Eddie, can we talk with you please?"
"Ahh! So there is life below the hips after all. Pardon me but I was beginning to wonder whether I was in need of learning to walk on my hands. To what do I owe the honour of this communication? Have I disturbed your slumbers or would you like me to get you a hot water bottle, or a perhaps a cold one?
"Oh dear, you're in one of your Basil Fawlty moods we see. Now listen, we think you work us too hard and we want a rest so your whole body can recover."
"Ah diddums! All is alright at this end. Is life a little difficult for you? Is breathing a little strenuous? Standing up a little difficult perhaps? Have you forgotten that to move one of you has to place your foot in front of the other and then the other must move a little later. Would you like me to draw you a picture?"
"No need to be sarcastic - it is for your own good - if you are not careful you will not have a leg to stand on!"
(to be continued)
Latest Newsflash! Folks I am pleased to say my legs are a lot better today.