|In court? Need assistance? Jurisdictionary|
|Your Own Credit Repair Business|
Table of Contents to this Topic
Boudreaux had just spent another evening with his drinking buddy, when he came stumbling in the front door of his house.
Not wanting to wake his wife ... Boudreaux started taking his shoes off.
He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step.
As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump.
A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.
Managing not to yell, Boudreaux sprung up, pulled down his pants, and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding.
He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood.
He then hid the empty box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.
In the morning, Boudreaux woke up with searing pain in both his head and butt with his wife staring at him from across the room.
She said, "You were drunk again last night weren't you Boudreaux?"
Boudreaux said, "Mon cher, why you say such a mean ting?"
"Well, it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes, but mostly..... it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the downstairs mirror!"