Soup delivery

Not too long ago, I had injured my knee when I slipped on my floor after a shower.  As it turns out, my feet were still a little wet.  Nothing was broken, but I did feel a pang go through my leg when I moved it such a way.  No biggie.  At least nothing was broken.

When a friend of mine texts me, asking me about my weekend.  His was quiet and he was just making some cauliflower soup.  I tell him what happened.

"Oh my.  Poor guy!  Was the floor wet?  Have you seen a doctor?"

Nah.  I slipped.  Banged my knee against the wall.

"Do you need anything?  I can bring you some stuff."

That's awfully nice of you, but I'm not incapacitated.  A bowl of soup would be nice, though.

"Don't be too proud to ask for help.  I can even take your temperature. (innocently bats eyelashes)"

From that moment on, I knew the intentions were no longer innocent.  There's another text.

"If you have a difficult time getting in and out of the shower, I can help you too.  Just think of me as a giver."

Oh, I know you're a selfless giver.

"I have very strong hands.  I can give you a deep tissue massage."

I don't reply to this.  A few hours later, there's another text. 

"Seriously, though.  If you`d like me to bring you anything after work tomorrow, I will.  You know I`m not nut.  I`ll leave right after I deliver your supplies.  No hanky panky."

I say I'll text if I need anything the next day, but it was a very generous of him to offer.

Sometimes a bowl of soup isn't just a bowl of soup.