[dropcap]I[/dropcap]’m all up in the Christmas tree, with greenery stabbing me in the ear, and pointy light bulbs poking me in the cheeks. I have exposed copper wire in my hand, and I notice the dogs are standing auspiciously far away from me.
“Why did you unplug the top lights?” Jamie’s oblivious to what I’m doing back there.
“Jamie,” I say. “I think Ellie Mae has been chewing on the cords, there’s an exposed wire down here.”
She doesn’t answer me.
“The top half of the lights are off,” she says. “I’m going to plug them back in.”
“Jamie, did you just hear what I said? I am holding exposed wire.”
But it was too late. The upper half of the tree popped and crackled like the Fourth of July, and the lights burnt out.
Apparently, she was busy chatting on the phone with her mother when she electrocuted me. I still can’t feel my left thumb.