For two days after my hip replacement I'd receive emails from friends wondering how I was doing. I'd respond by writing, "It was apiece o' cake". If you don't know what this means think, It was easy, not a problem.
Do you want to know a good lie? Surgery of any kind is not a piece o' cake. Think about it. A guy takes what is called a scalpel and slices into a part of your body. In my case it was the hip. He then saws off the top of said hip and proceeds to hammer a spike with a ceramic ball on top into the femur. And if you've read this blog before you know I'm a huge sissy when it comes to pain. After all this nonsense there's a five week rehab. The reason I called it a piece o' cake, and I've said it a thousand times is because people don't want to hear about your personal aches and pains. As the Hall of Fame football coach says about griping, "80% of the people don't care and the other 20% are happy."
I've been fortunate to receive best wishes, a number of them. I've received food I don't need but took gratefully.
In yesterday's mail I received from Parker, Arizona a piece o' cake. I looked at it and thought 'how did they get that in the mail without it breaking and I bet it tastes good. It was devils food with globs of vanilla frosty. I unwrapped the saran covering and bent it. It wouldn't. The frosting was plaster and I felt ridiculous. Then I laughed.
How many people have the creativity and sense of humor to send such a gift plus there are no calories.
Today, I put it on my trophy shelf of remembrances.
Our friends in Parker are a pair of Aces. ///always have been. Always will be.
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