Setting: On the couch in the living room with Macy when my phone rings. May or may not have been napping.
Me: Hello...?
Dave: Hey, it's me.
Me: OK. Where are you? (was I sleeping??)
Dave: In the attic.
Me: Oh.
Dave: Can you come upstairs and help me run a cable through the wall?
Me: Um, sure.
It's Christmas Eve and Dave is rerouting our cable wire in the bedroom. When I got upstairs it sounded like he was drilling through a bucket of rocks in the attic. While he has always been handy I, on the other hand, have always been prone to 'worst case scenario'. So while logically I know that it's only a cable wire, and Dave knows what he's doing, the irrational part of me hopes that we are not that family on the morning news tomorrow whose house burned down Christmas Eve due to electrical issues.
