“Turn off the dryer!” Mom yells.
Anxious because of her, my face contorts as I unplug the toaster.
Pitter-patter down the hallway, then I pull the cord. Hard.
ZZZZZ! Fuzzy black dots float behind my eyelids as I
disappear into the brown shag carpet. Uh-oh. Did I make a mistake?
Static brain, frozen body, racing heart. Fearful to disappoint.
Jolted to self-soothing.
“Shhhhh,” my neighbor tries to calm my mom, but she paces and screams.
“I told her to shut the dryer off, not pull the fucking plug!”
Still drooling, I smirk on the inside.
I am the power plug.