Dear Future Husband,
Before I begin, I believe it is direly necessary to make it ABSOLUTELY clear that what I’m about to say has NOTHING to do with my grandparents or Sheesa.
Ok. With the disclaimer out of the way, allow me to continue:
Future Husband, as you might be aware, today is Valentine’s Day – the day the coupled-off world celebrates love and passion and feelings and sparks. So, in honor of this holiday, I’m going to risk being risqué and tell you about the time(s) I personally experienced sparks in the…GASP…bedroom…
Wait for it…
…at my grandparents house…while sharing a bed with Sheesa…when I was eight years old…and nine years old…AND ten years old (it happened a lot).
As I’ve mentioned before, there were ALWAYS charged emotions when Sheesa and I were forced to share a bed. Mainly because she breathed and moved her little toe, which obviously shook the ENTIRE bed and unnerved me to no end.
But the experience at my grandparents’ house was different. Little did we know, there was ANOTHER charge between those sheets. And it was called static electricity.*
Being eight or nine or ten years old, I did not understand this phenomenon. All I knew was that every time I – or Sheesa – moved, SPARKS LITERALLY FLEW.
And it scared the living crap out of me.
At any given moment, I thought we were one toss or turn away from catching the bed on fire and burning down the house. Thankfully, that never happened.
*Being the curious, intellectual and ever-learning woman that I am, I reached out to my high school Chemistry Honors/Chemistry II AP/Physics AP teacher for an explanation. Here it is: “Basically the kinetic energy of your hand moving was enough to dislodge the electrons of one material onto another material, causing a difference in electric potential. Once the difference was great enough, the voltage pushed the electrons to the lower energy state. The travel of electrons ionized the air, causing the emission of electromagnetic radiation – ‘sparks’.”
Huh? You DON’T still keep in touch with your science teacher from high school? Weird.
PS. If sparks fly in our bedroom, I’m changing the sheets.
PSS. Happy Valentine’s Day!