It's winter- the time for snugly blankets and fuzzy socks. And if you have carpet, it's also the time for static electricity.
Something that gives my husband maniacal glee.
I've begun calling him 'The Battery' because he seems to gather a charge not just from the blankets and carpets, but from any surface that he can suck a charge from- I'm surprised the lights don't dim when he passes by them.
He reminds me of that guy from the 80's TV show Weird Science- he could suck electricity from anything, and had to disperse it when he was fully charged. My husband does the same thing.
Usually on me.
He leans in to kiss me goodbye. Zap! I swear I saw a Tesla coil arc between our lips! And it wouldn't have surprised me if I saw a curl of smoke either. I try to swat him, but it's too late- he gets out the door before I can get him.
He's tried to be more considerate. Instead of zapping my lips off, he touches my cheek ever so gently before he kisses me. Like that's any better when the spark hits. It's even more super-fun when he does it as I'm concentrating on a writing project- nothing like being jolted out of your chair when you're in the middle of a masterpiece.
Now he tries only to touch my shoulder or the middle of my back. I've started wearing a heart monitor just in case he sends me into defibrillations.
My daughter sees his antics and tries desperately to copy them, but she either has the wrong wattage or is unable to hold a charge for long- though sometimes she does get me, but she gets herself even more- no matter how long she rubs her stockinged feet across the carpets.
She's a AA compared to my husband, the Cessna DieHard. And if he keeps this up, I might not be the only one that gets assaulted!
I simply cannot wait for a nice, wet Spring!
Three Ways to HOOK a Reader & Never Let GO
23 hours ago