Heavy

“It’s heavy”, my dad said referring to the Jazzy motorized wheelchair that a friend is letting him use. He wanted my help getting it into his house.

“Ok”, I said. Not real worried about it, I thought.

He’s 76 and I’m 46. His heavy isn’t my heavy.

So I go over there and well, of course, I have to take it for a spin before I do the “heavy” lifting. That thing is cool! It has wide all terrain looking wheels and will do 65mph with a good wind to your back. It’s equipped with a seat belt. Really. And side panel air bags. Not really.

After I played for a minute I lined it up by the back door that has an 8″ drop off. Not a problem. I’ll just get behind it, grab and lift.

That’s what I did. Except for the lifting part.

Hmmm…what was the snapping sound I just heard? Anything to do with the sharp pain that just pulsated up my back? I may need a Jazzy, too.

Have you ever been in a restaurant and lifted your glass of ice tea(that looked like glass) and you almost slung it in the face of the patron behind you because it was in fact a light weight plastic cup?

Well this was like that…but in reverse.

The base must be constructed of 10″ of pure lead. Heavy beyond belief.

I really need to start listening to my dad.

Which reminds me. I have another Father that I should listen to better.

Ibuprofen, please?

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