The Mystery of the Murderous Chandelier

As told to me verbatim by my mother today over email, Comic Sans and all:

So, here's the chandelier story. When you were about 7 months old, we went down to NY to spend Thanksgiving with Grandma Dooley and Grandpa Bunny. (Actually, unbeknownst to me for another 2 weeks yet, I was pregnant with Adam at the time, so he was in danger, too) It was Thanksgiving day and about 2 hours from dinner. Grandma, Grandpa, Maizie, Schmuck and I were sitting around the dining room table and talking. You were sitting on my lap. There was a moron kid who lived above us and he had the habit of clomping around, banging, smashing things, stomping his feet. Used to drive me crazy. And he wasn't even that young at that point, maybe 13 or 14! So, he started with the stomping stuff and one of us started to say something about it when all of a sudden the chandlier broke loose from the ceiling from all his frickin' stomping and swung down. (It was hung from the ceiling with a swag thing, if you know what that is). It headed right for you and me! All 300 pounds of it. (or however many tons the thing weighed). I saw it start to swing towards us and leaped backwards with you in my arms. Not 2 seconds later, the chandelier crashed through the chair we were just sitting on. It pulverized the chair, just sliced right through the back of it. That would have been us! I really don't think I have ever moved that fast in my entire life. I'm serious about that. No one said anything for a couple of seconds or so. Then, we all started screaming at once. Except for you. You just looked at us like, "Huh? Anything going on here?" So, that is the story of the chandelier. Part of the ceiling came down with it, too.