Another Fine Mess

The colors were all tangled and wrapped with black tape. They were bent and shoved in an unforgiving shape. What was I to think or how to know which to cut? The raw surface was rough like a dry roasted nut. Oh where is Papa when I seek advice and wits? Didn’t he teach to do for myself and not throw fits? I calmed myself and looked again at mangled wires, traced them to the original site of the fires. Blue wire? Red wire? Or there’s black, yellow, orange, and green? I hoped on hope I’d inherited the right gene. At long last decided I cut one I thought best, re-wrapped the others and replaced them in their nest. A good afternoon’s work, now time to rest my tush. But when I flipped the light switch my toilet did flush!