The Argument Ungrounded

I stepped on the geranium micro-bus and it was shocking to say the least.  It was an old white church bus Dad renovated to go camping with during the summer.  It had red velvet seating and lime green curtains – just peachy I thought.  At the age of turbulence I didn’t appreciate the fact I had to be seen on it in the first place, and so what happened next was just a kick in the head.  

I grabbed onto the bar that leads up the steps and was darn near electrocuted.  I held the metal bar in my hands; the electricity wouldn’t release me and I had to be kicked to let go of it.  Dad was sitting in the driver’s seat at the time and so my head was convenient, after all, it was where all the noise was coming from.  And then the hollering that followed in the ensuing argument.  

He wouldn’t believe me that I couldn’t let go of it and called me an idiot for playing too much.  What was there to argue over is what I was wondering? A wily little girl  holding on to a bus bar being electrocuted, entertaining the notion of a kick in the head for the hell of it, or the fact that he wanted to argue over letting go of ungrounded electricity. Yes, brilliant plan for attention I thought.  I was wondering who wired it wrong in the first place.  I couldn’t believe it.  Which one’s the idiot?   He grounded me of course for arguing.