The light in our laundry room has been intent on driving me crazy! For about a year it has been unreliable just often enough to make me threaten it and even sometimes whack it a time or two with a wooden spoon. Following such displays of power, it usually would straighten up and fly right for a while. But increasingly, over the last few months, it has not responded to authority. I have stood at the light switch and turned it off and on and off and on for great lengthy sessions of gentle persuasion, and until just before the New Year, it would eventually come on. But alas, I seem to have lost my touch. Certain Man never needed “The Touch” it seemed. Have any of you ever noticed how things work properly for the man of the house? And malfunction with annoying regularity when they are nowhere to be found?
A few weeks ago marked a change in the light’s entire demeanor and attitude. We had a few days of dimming and brightening, then some of that dreadful buzz, and finally NOTHING. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I really cannot function without a light in my laundry room. I
complained loudly and lengthily mentioned it to Certain Man, and he found the sudden (!) demise unacceptable, too. However, it chose to go out at an inopportune time and there was interference to fixing it, due to schedules and weekends, etc.. So I hauled a spare lamp in from the family room, put a nice, bright replacement bulb into it and “made do” with what I had.
Certain Man took the light apart and peered about at the innards of the receptacle. He determined that there were some serious problems with the mechanism, but also that one of the long bulbs was burnt out. He stood at the door of the laundry room and weighed his options.
“I think I will go into ACE Hardware and see what they have for a replacement light,” he finally decided. “I can buy replacement bulbs for this one and it would probably work, but maybe not right. I kinda’ think I would be happier with replacing the light.”
I was okay with whatever he decided. I was sure that it would result in illumination of my laundry room, and I didn’t much care how he did it as long as it got done. He went out and came trudging back with two new light bulbs. ACE Hardware didn’t have any replacement lights that pleased him. He put the new bulbs in, tried the switch, and lo! And behold! LIGHT! I was ecstatic. But he wasn’t. He said, “We are going to have to replace that light. It just has too much wrong with it. I have a gift card to Lowes. Maybe I will run in there one of these days and see what they have.”
A few days later, he came home with a box from Lowes that said “florescent ceiling lamp” on it. I wondered whether he would put it up, or if he just had it on reserve in case he suddenly needed it. But then the light in the laundry room started acting up again. It was taking its sweet time about coming on, and when it did come on it was sometimes dim.
“I don’t know, Sweetheart,” I said to him the other day. “That light in the laundry room isn’t acting right. It takes a while to come on and its just not right somehow.”
“I know,” he said, looking thoughtful. “I guess I am just going to have to change it.”
Over the next few days, I thought about it occasionally, especially when I moved the box to get something out of the closet in the entryway. It honestly didn’t bother me very much. Certain Man has been operating with four stitches in one finger, has gotten new chickens, and has been especially busy with deacon calls because of the extreme cold and Christmas and PEOPLE. (He has also been dealing with a beleaguering weariness that troubles me, though I do think that some late night watching of his favorite sport, FOOTBALL, and in particular, his beloved Buckeyes, could have something to do with that.) But I knew he would get it done sometime. Besides, once this faulty light was on, it did a fairly good job.
Then yesterday, I spent the day on Nettie, and besides that, pretty much just did what had to be done to get laundry washed, dried, folded and put away. I went to bed before Certain Man finished watching those Buckeyes win their game. This morning, I headed for Greenwood to pick up my Sweet Mama. She had a dentist appointment, needed to get her glasses repaired following a bad fall at church over a week ago, and wanted to look for a new recliner for the one she has that is literally “letting her down on the side.” We ate lunch and then I flew into Boscov’s to exchange some things from Cecilia’s’ Mother and sisters from Christmas. Then I took Mama back home, filled her med box, went through some mail, stopped some things off at my Aunt Freda’s for my mama, and then came home to Shady Acres.
The house was unusually dark. I peered through the dark laundry room, through the dark kitchen, on to the dark family room. Middle Daughter was in her father’s recliner, listening to music with Cecilia.
“Whew! It sure is dark in here!” I said as I came into the dark kitchen and flipped on a few lights. “Where’s Dad?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him,” said Middle Daughter. She seemed unconcerned.
“His truck is in the pavilion,” I said. “I saw it when I pulled into the lane.” I went out to check, and he was in the truck, talking to his sister. He seemed uninclined to talk to me, so I wandered back in and went to trade my boots for my sandals. I heard him come in.
“Where’s Mom?” I heard him ask Middle Daughter.
“I don’t know. She was here–”
“I’m here,” I said, coming around the corner.
They were both looking at me with “the look.” (I hate that look. It means I missed something very important.)
“You didn’t even notice, did you?” Questioned my long suffering spouse. “The light?”
“”I had all the lights turned off so she would turn it on,” said Deborah, “But she came on in and never even noticed.”
I turned to see the laundry room flooded with light. A clean, new,
gorgeous efficient light was shedding a wonderful clear light all over the room, giving it a whole new brightness.
And I was properly grateful and delighted and grateful and delighted, and said so over and over because, in truth, I WAS!
And my heart gives grateful praise for a husband who looks so well to the ways of this household. I am so blessed.