Playground Uprising

An Electrical Hazard
February 23, 2007, 8:02 pm
Filed under: Family, Life, old houses


The electricians came today. The plural form of electricians is important here since we started with ONE and THREE anxiety attacks and SEVEN hours later another one appeared in an attempt to fend off future litigation.

Now this was a nice man (peculiar, large, furry hat and all), and the job was minimum, according to my initial and clearly ill-informed assessment.

And so the morning began like this …

We, meaning him (I am lucky to successfully screw in a light bulb) started with the busted socket in the Master of Disaster’s room (because we all know that electrical hazards are a healthy addition to any childhood barracks). The socket needed some handy work and a new brown plastic cover, you know the one that Greg inquired about on Tuesday and left a reminder about on Wednesday, the same one that peculiar hat man referred to as, “oh yeh we only have white ones on the truck but I can go by Lowes (when I am paying by the hour) to pick one up, yes that one. This monumental task was completed in 2 hours with no further fanfare and designated the success story of the day.

Then, we moved to the kitchen, the culminating hell.

The outside light, sitting defiantly by the kitchen door, burned bulbs with ominous regularity, until one day, it officially decided to switch to the dark side (a move I was seriously considering). This was the next task. So, peculiar hat man (for reasons yet to be determined) removed all of the switch pads inside the kitchen and cut an unknown number of wires (some which turned out to be fairly important) and TaDa the outside light worked and the kitchen lights now had the added feature of NOT TURNING OFF. Peculiar hat man then turned to me and asked, “Is this a problem?” “Well of course not … leaving the lights on 24/7 will certainly support our attempted green lifestyle and now I can formally adopt the catchy hotel slogan “Come on over, we’ll leave the lights on for you.”

After this triumph, he turned his attention to the light that is suppose to hang over the breakfast room table but instead is about 6 inches to the left, anticipating its head to head combat with unsuspecting guests and dazed family members. This endeavor started at 12pm and was still entertaining small children at 5pm, when I called Greg and suggested that his early return home from work just might keep his wife off of the America’s Most Wanted list for yet another day.

About this time, peculiar hat man informed me that his boss was coming over to assist him (and I am thinking by “assist” you must mean “fire your crazy self”) and I assured him (that since we now no longer had a choice) …. “that we would leave the light on for him.”


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