Electrocuted in My Hot Tub and Lived to Tell the Tale (Hilariously)

Once upon a time, there was a wonderful generous husband who bought his wife a hot tub, it was delivered to their home, they plugged it in by the pool and they lived happily ever after. 
 
The End.

If anything in our life ever goes so smoothly, I'll be rendered speechless. In the meantime, I blog.

The story begins accurately. There was a wonderful generous husband who bought his wife a hot tub. And then things went all...'Courter-Style.'

 
The purchasing of the hot tub went exactly as I'd expected. Meaning, the salesman made an immediate (bordering on creepy) connection with my husband and began telling him his life story, complete with a mid-sentence belch, followed by his detailed explanation of the spicy sub he ate for lunch. I'm so accustomed to people latching onto my husband's ear that I never leave home without a library book, and had no problem making myself comfortable in an empty display model hot tub until their lengthy convo finally came to a blessed end.  You might be surprised to learn I'm not what you'd call a people-person.

 A few weeks later, the hot tub arrived, my husband filled it up with water, put the chemicals in, and cranked it to 105.
 

...And then it heated up and we lived happily ever after.  

In your world, maybe. Not mine. In my world, I suggested to our daughter that we go outside and feel the water the next day. In my world, I unclipped the lid and watched the steam rise from the beautiful clear water. In my world, I plunged my entire arm deep within the inviting surface. And then my world got jolted with volts of electricity that started with my arm and ended with a thump in my chest that landed me straight on my ass with a thud beside my hot tub. It was my unremembered scream of profanity that stopped my daughter from touching the water and spared her the electricity-induced backward flight to the ground.

 
She owes me one.

To add insult to injury, I looked down to see a bloody gnawed off raccoon paw that our dog brought in from the fields laying right beside my hand. (Cue profanity #2 and violent gagging.)

Yes. Welcome to my world.

My husband arrived home from work and said he'd check it out. And by "check it out" he meant taking off the cover and plunging both of his arms into the water. To my surprise and horror, he not only stayed on his feet, but yelled, "It's fine!" And then he tried to convince me that I didn't really get shocked, but that “The water was probably just sooo hot" he said, as he happily splashed his arms around. 

 
Hey Bionic Man, I don't know why you're not lying in a pile of your own piss and drool right now, but not on your freakin’ life am I putting my arm back into that hell tub. Then I glanced down at his rubber-soled feet. 
 
"Yo Chucko! Lose the boots."
 
A minute later, my barefoot husband stuck his hand in the water, yelled "son of a ....!" and started making phone calls.
 
That’s better.

The electrician came the next day and fixed the problem. It seems there was a broken ground. (Referring to wires within our walls, not the spot on the concrete where my butt landed.)

The following week, two guys from the pool company arrived to make sure it wasn't a malfunction with the tub itself. They showed me how they tested the water with their fancy machinery, assured me that it was safe to use, and one even tried to get me to touch the water. I firmly explained that hell hath not frozen over.

He said, "What do I need to do to convince you to use this hot tub your husband bought you?" I glanced down at their boots. Well, since you're asking...

Two minutes later, his young assistant was hesitantly stripping off his boots and socks, stepping into a puddle of rainwater, and hovering his arms over the hot tub trying desperately to look confident about what he was about to do, while I moved off to the side so he wouldn't land on me in a heap of chattering teeth and steaming flesh. (When it comes to electricity, you can never be too dramatic.) Just as his fingertips broke the surface of the water, the other guy...the one willing to sacrifice his own assistant...made a loud "ZZZZZT" noise from his mouth. I'm not sure who crapped their pants worse, but my money's on the assistant who jerked his arms out of the water faster than I could cover my head and scream.

I informed 'zzzt guy' that he's a terrible human being, because I felt like he had a right to know. He told me he has an ex-wife who’d completely agree.

I didn't find that news anywhere near as shocking as the tub of death we'd just purchased for our backyard.

But all hope was not lost. One week later, there was finally a happy ending to this Courter-Style fairytale:

....and then her wonderful generous husband bought her a giant pair of rubber swim fins and she floated happily ever after. 

The End.