My wife is a registered nurse, and once upon a time she fussed over every pain or mishap that I had. Recently, however, I got an indication that the honeymoon is over.
I was about to fix the fan in the attic, and as I lifted myself from the ladder in the attic, I scratched my forehead on a crossbeam, causing it to bleed profusely.
Crawling along the floor, I managed to get splinters in both my hands, and I cut one hand while replacing the fan belt.
On my way back down the ladder, I missed the last two rungs and twisted my ankle as I fell.
When I finally limped into the kitchen, my loving wife took one look at me and said, “Are those your good trousers?”