120 volt wake-up call

Today’s lesson: Read the sign above and replace the word “game” with “life.” Life should be like a game and we should be able to gain some amusement from it, right?  Although we will be offended – campaign advertising and network TV programming guarantee that – we should be able to enjoy the show without walking away.

Seems I’ve been spending some time at the carnival lately.

First, the acrobatic feats:

 

One of our cats mysteriously fell into the neighbor’s pool. The neighbor’s yard is properly fenced. It’s not our place to judge that the pool, with it’s murky black and green water, looks like the home to this creature:

 

 

Following the discovery of our soaking wet, shivering, howling, muck-covered cat on our doorstep, we follow the paw prints to a hole in the fence at the back of our lot. A feat our dear cat accomplished by prying off the lattice work at the bottom. 

I peer under the fence to see the once sparkling, chlorinated pool next door is now a  swamp o’ horrors, topped with a thick layer of green algae. I’m not sure what series of events led our cat to plunge into the depths or how he clawed his way out. All I can think is that it’s lucky he got out.  This  is the same cat who pried off one of our heating vents in the wall and plummeted into the ductwork of our gas furnace. Clearly for him, life is a game.

Next, the fireworks:
Somehow Girl from the East managed to procure a copper penny, jam it behind one of those little button night lights plugged into the electrical outlet, and trip the circuit for our second-floor bath and office.

I was drying my hair when this happened so the sudden power outage startled me. I stepped out of the bathroom to find my baby girl on the floor just outside the door, the nearby electrical outlet blooming with black streaks.

The nightlight was blackened.

The penny melted at the contact point.

Miraculously, Girl from the East was OK.

You know those moments when you’re looking at something happening, but it’s not registering with central command? Like when you stumble upon a big, wild animal in the woods or when one of your customers at the bank pulls out a handgun and announces a holdup? This was one of those moments. All I could do was hold my girl tight and hope she was OK. She was fine. But the thought of “what if?” wouldn’t leave me for days.

We’ve had a few close calls this year. Girl from the East had the big spill and six stitches. We had the car wreck. In each case, we were jarred a little bit harder. We were forced to examine what the heck we were doing (or not doing). Some things (car accident) happen and cannot be prevented. Other things (big spill, almost electrocution) can be avoided. The trick it seems is to keep perspective and get out of the park before the scary carnies get you.

3 thoughts on “120 volt wake-up call

  1. MZ, I’m so glad to be able to get back into your place. I was just bursting to write something here. My youngest brother did that too, and my mother watched him like a hawk. Some kids just have to do it, come hail or high water. They will find a way.
    Don’t let the scary carnies get you!

  2. Yikes! I know that feeling of needing to hold them simply because they survived the “what if”. You are right though, sometimes all you can do is smile at life.

  3. jeepers! hang in there. i still remember when BC, aged 2 1/2, hid from us the day the men brought her big girl bed to our home. one minute, she was there; the next minute, she had vanished. we looked everywhere. i ran through the streets screaming her name. i was panic-stricken, my heart in my throat. BS ran up and down the house, looking under beds and in closets. even the two burly moving men were looking for her.

    then, when i started to close the front door, there was little girl, giggling because she hid from so many people. didn’t know whether i wanted to kill her or squeeze the stuffing out of her because i was so glad she was ok.

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