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Shockingly Dismissive

, , , , , | Related | October 9, 2021

When I was twelve, my family moved to a new house. A few weeks in, I reached for the bathroom light switch and received a mild electric shock. My dad is a licensed electrician, so my mum told me to let him know when he came back from work that night.

Me: “Dad, I got an electric shock from the bathroom switch.”

Dad: “How many times have I told you not to touch the switch with wet hands?!”

Me: “No, my hands were dry.”

Dad: “Then you wouldn’t have gotten a shock.”

Me: “But I did; the switch must be faulty.”

Dad: “You never dry your hands properly. They must have been damp when you touched it.”

Over the next twenty-two years, I continued to receive random shocks from the same switch, as did the rest of my family members, including my mother. His response was always dismissive. We couldn’t bring in a third-party electrician as he considered it a waste of money, not to mention doubting his ability. I took to leaving a wooden pencil near the bathroom door so I could use it to turn on the switch.

A few days ago, I noticed that there was a piece of duct tape over the light switch. I asked my mother about it.

Mom: “Oh, that. Dad put the tape there to mark the switch and will change it later.”

Me: “He’s changing it?”

Mom: “Yeah, he got an electric shock when he touched it.”

Me: *Sarcastically* “His hands must have been wet.”

Mom: *Not getting my sarcasm* “No, the switch is faulty; that’s why he’s changing it.”

Me: “Didn’t we tell him this over the past twenty-two years? He always said that he had never gotten a shock, so there couldn’t be anything wrong with it.”

I can only say that it’s a good thing that it was a low-voltage shock all those times.

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