Some things are funnier when you’re naked. Take last night for example. My husband decided to try out our inversion machine. It’s that contraption that allows you to hang upside down from your feet to release back tension. Gravity with a naked guy can be funny, but he wasn’t one who was bare. No, it was I who’d come into the room, fresh out of the jacuzzi, stark steaming naked. Everything was going along swimmingly as my husband hooked his feet into the foot clamps and tipped backwards.
“Honey, you might want to only go half-way—you know, it takes awhile to adjust …”
But it was too late. He’d already launched himself into full upside-down mode at 180 degrees completely inverted. His head was inches off the floor on a frame that added about two feet to his 6-foot stature. We heard a click. It sounded as if the machine locked into place. He struggled to right himself, but all that did was cause the contraption to skid and jump a little on the wood floor.
“Inversion” sounds so Zen, doesn’t it? Hanging by your feet, on the other hand, sounds pretty much like what it is, a common torture technique. So it’s no wonder that it took about a nanosecond for my normally stoic man-at-the-helm husband to go from feeling Zen to needing Xanax. He was, in short, unraveling.
I’ve got to admit this was kind of a buzz kill. Here I was all woozy from a glass of wine and a long hot soak and now I was forced to deal with elemental physics. Trust me, I may not know a torque from a fulcrum, but I can spot a leverage problem when I see one. I am 4’10” and weigh 100 pounds. My husband is nearly twice my weight and hanging upside down on this frame he measured 8 feet tall. I couldn’t reach the top to pull his feet down so the only thing I could do was straddle the gurney and try pushing down on the middle between his legs.
Remember, I am naked.
As if this weren’t intimate enough, I realized the best that might happen is with one big push, we were likely to end up suspended in some kind of kinky Kama-Sutra teeter-totter balanced position. So you see I had to think things through before springing into wife-savior mode.
Uh, do I run downstairs and unlock the door in case the paramedics have to come? Do I call 911 first and then get dressed? Do I grab the camcorder and capture some prize-winning footage for America’s Funniest Videos or do I try to help him get out of this gizmo? As I triaged my options, my husband’s blood rushed to his head. He was not finding this one bit amusing. I, however, found it very chuckle-worthy.
Then I remembered the magic words: “Bend your knees.” This is how the manual states you un-invert yourself.
“Bend your knees,” I said in my most calm yet most directive voice. But I might as well have said it in Swahili.
Have you ever noticed how verbal language is lost on the hysterical? They need physical cues. like being hosed down with ice water or slapped into consciousness. And as much as I considered those techniques I simply but firmly touched his knees, issuing the command, “BEND YOUR KNEES.” Okay I did let a little guffaw slip. I couldn’t help it.
He came up swearing and sweating. “It’s really not that funny,” he said.
“Well maybe not tonight, but don’t you think tomorrow you’ll find it really really funny?” I asked.
“No, tomorrow it’ll be even less funny.” he said mopping his brow.
Actually he was wrong; it was even funnier.