A battery fell on me this week. Let me back up.
Over the weekend I hosted a team event here at my house. I invited all my team members to come over and play with the new 2015 Stampin’ UP! Occasions Catalog stuff. We had a great time. Then…
On Sunday morning my Mom calls me and says “My car won’t start can you drive me to get a battery.” Well yes of course I can Mommy. But I have church and hubby is gone and then I have my team event at 3pm. This is going to be tricky. Immediately after church I leave to get Mom. My sweet Father In Law saved the day by coming and taking the old battery out of her car for us to take down to Wal Mart. We get to Wal Mart and the line is forever long. OH YEAH, it’s like a week before Christmas. Everyone is out doing Christmas shopping, etc.
I go over to the battery area to use that book they have hanging from the shelves to look up what battery we need for her car. WHEN ALL THE SUDDEN… a battery from the top shelf hurls its self off the shelf, bashing me in the arm and landing, splat, on the ground. Battery acid went everywhere including on my feet and pants. I stood there bashed in the arm, sprayed in battery acid trying to decide how to react. Here’s my bruise. It doesn’t look that impressive but I am telling you it hurts.
I go over to the manager of the automotive department immediately and tell him what happened. He looks at me with that “Oh CRAP” kind of look. The look that makes you become concerned with the situation. He says “You need to come with me.” He takes me in the back room and makes a baking soda paste and starts rubbing it all over my feet and pants. Talk about awkward. It’s not everyday a WalMart associate rubs you down with baking soda. I hope you are getting a visual. Apparently baking soda neutralizes acid in batteries. YAY! So crisis averted. No chemical burns and it did not eat a hole in my jeans or my feet. But probably the weirdest thing to ever happen to me.
As if that weren’t weird enough….What makes it even more weird is I have a battery phobia. YES a battery phobia. I do not touch batteries. If I have to change batteries I use a towel to touch them. I hate them, WHY you ask… I got burned with BATTERY ACID as a child on my hands. I handled an old flashlight and it had acid all over it. NICE right. My sister found this irony HILARIOUS. She called me laughing hysterically and said “Mom told me what happened. Oh the irony.” Oh the sisterly love.
So that is the story of the attack of the batteries. Oh and Mom’s car is running again. We finally managed to get a battery. She’s all fixed up again.