Hope We Don't Have To Rebuild Him

The Pony had his first paid holiday this week. I'm sure he learned that sometimes, a day off is more trouble than it's worth.

Let the record show that The Pony and his work brethren and sistren are scheduled to come in an hour later on Mondays. And in this case, the holiday Monday being Tuesday. There are lots of packages those days, and let's face it, The Pony and his recent hires are younger, and just got insurance.

Yes, I am able to drop The Pony from my health insurance now. He was activated on his own insurance (the premiums which will be held out of his pay) on the 22nd. He even got his paperwork to prove it on the 29th. Good thing he was healthy for that week! At least he's still covered by mine until July 1, our fiscal year.

Anyhoo... last Friday, The Pony hurt his fetlock wrist carrying a heavy package. He's strong as an ox (a daintly ox who laid around playing computer games for the past year), so that surprised me. The Pony said it was an awkward shape. It doesn't help that he's broken both elbows, which don't fully extend like a normal person's elbow.

The Pony was going to tell his supervisor when he went in Saturday morning. Farmer H cautioned him not to, because nobody wants the reputation of a malingerer right after their first 30-day evaluation. Farmer H said he'd get a wrist brace at the Devil's Playground (advice that I had already given) and tough it out. The Pony insisted that he was SUPPOSED to tell. Which I am sure they instilled in the new recruits during their two-week training. For liability purposes.

Anyhoo... The Pony might have told, to have it on the record. I didn't have time to ask, then I forgot. But he DID get a wrist brace on the way to work Saturday morning. He said it felt better until 1:00-3:00. I don't know if it went numb after that, or if he took some ibuprofen.

Anyhoo... Tuesday dawned with a light rain that was expected to last into the afternoon. The Pony left for work while I was in the NASCAR bathroom, so I didn't have a chance to interrogate him. I doubt that was an accident...

Anyhoo... I'd told him the night before that if he assumed he would work another 11-hour day, then any time he was released earlier would feel like an EARLY OUT, as we in the education profession call it. At 7:54 p.m., I got a text:

"Clocked out. Acquired a battle wound. Gonna go to Steak n Shake."

That was a bit cryptic. The Pony usually writes a chapter of War and Peace, which my phone object to waiting on. Those three little incoming text dots make me crazy.

Huh. Battle wound. I didn't get a call from the hospital, so The Pony was surely still ambulatory. With a good right leg to work the gas and brake in his Rogue. Battle wound. Maybe his head was all wrapped in gauze, like that fifer in the the "Spirit of 76" painting by Archibald Willard. Hopefully he didn't run over his own foot with the LLV (Long Life Vehicle). It was raining. so probably not a killer bee attack.

While I was mulling that text, reluctant to question it, since The Pony was likely driving to Steak n Shake, I receiver a text from Farmer H:

"Did Pony say what his battle scare is"

Okay, I completely missed the SCARE part of that, until just now checking my phone, heh, heh. We were in the dark until The Pony got home. He came down to my lair to show me the wound. It was on his right wrist, two little holes gouged into the skin. Like maybe one of those fat kindergarten pencils would do.

"See? It kind of looks like a snake bite. One of the postal lockers was stuck, and I tried to jimmy it open."

"With WHAT?"

"What do you mean, 'with what'?

"What did you use to pry it? What slipped and put holes in your wrist?"

"Oh, I didn't use anything but my hands. That's just what the locker did to me."

"Customarily, you use an implement when you 'jimmy' something."

"No. Just my hands."

I'm pretty sure The Pony is going to be all right. I bet he wasn't even wearing his wrist brace when he did that. Surely it would have protected his tender skin. 

That's an interrogation for another day. In the meantime, I hope we don't have to rebuild The Pony like the Six Million Dollar Man. He's a few million short for such a re-haul.