Our house, the Tesla machine

The combination of below-freezing temperatures (the low last night was 10 degrees F) and our super-cheap nylon/acrylic blend carpets, plus the fact that our poorly insulated house forces us to love our wool slippers, has turned our house into a static electricity generator. Just walking around induces our hair to stand on end. We generate giant, painful blue-white sparks every time we switch a light on or off. The cats fear us, as any contact with our hands induces pain. (In fact the cats look leprous, as patches of their hair are glued to their flesh and other patches stand on end and wave like mutant sea urchins.) We hear a “snap!” when we brush past a drywalled corner (because of the metal corner bead under the paint). I’m pretty sure we could power a small suburb off our bodies.

So Josh thinks it’s much more efficient to walk around holding the baby out in front of him, and have her turn the lights on and off for him. To be fair, the baby seems much more put out by the ruckus that flip-out Mommy then induces on her father, than on the arcing sparks of electricity flying from her own body.

Josh may be the first father ever to die because of static electricity.

Leave a Reply

XHTML: You can use these tags: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

:mrgreen: :neutral: :twisted: :shock: :smile: :???: :cool: :evil: :grin: :oops: :razz: :roll: :wink: :cry: :eek: :lol: :mad: :sad: