After commenting on Dan’s post at No Facilities today, he reminded me I’ve mentioned the battle of the lights over here at my house. I’ve alluded to it, but never written about it.
About his wife, Dan wrote, “Turning a light on to make her happy is like bleeding in front of a shark to make it go away.” I lol’ed.
The Mister and I both go around shutting off lights, because we have a Moo, and Moos do not care about light bills or natural resources, but The Mister and I do. Hell hath no fury like a Moo during power outages.
For me, I walk around asking what the hell everyone’s so afraid of, and yelling about how we don’t need every light bulb in the house on when God’s light is on! Sassy started calling natural light “God’s light” before she was two, and when I’d go claim her from her crib in the morning, she’d be signing, Light! Light! Light! “God’s light ON, Mama!” Now she’s 12 and she assures me that if God had intended her to get up so early, He’da put the light on for her.
I prefer to read and well, do pretty much anything in natural light.
I like to get up and look at my trees.
I enjoy the southern exposure.
I believe I’ve mentioned my abhorrence for direct sunlight.
When natural light fades, well then I really only want enough light to see.
At night, I drive with my glasses on, because they have anti-glare. Anti-glare is my friend. Otherwise I get a headache, panic, and may or may not shout at oncoming traffic, “REALLY?!? WAS HARNESSING THE POWER OF THE SUN IN HEADLIGHTS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY?!?”
I despise overhead lighting. It’s overbearing. It gives me a headache. I can hear fluorescent lights. I do not like brightly lit places at all.
The Mister likes to turn on lights when the sun goes down. And not just one light, like, all the lights in the room. Meanwhile, I feel like I should wear shades. He actually wants to install an overhead light in the living room, but I will not let that happen! There are three lamps in the living room, and that’s enough! If he wants more light, he should move out.
This gets more interesting with contradiction, because I cannot see in the dark, whereas my husband has apparently been given vampire-like powers of night vision.
Before bed, as I go through the house, he stays behind me, shutting off all the lights as he follows.
This always begs the question, If you can see in the fucking dark, why do you need so many fucking lights on?!? But I don’t ask him that, I’m grateful he’s willing to help me get to bed without a terrible accident.
I didn’t know this was a thing — people who can see in the dark. I found out when we took our family to a haunted woods thingy. One HOT October night in Georgia, someone Army decided we should all have mandatory family fun at the freakin campground, in the swamp, after dark. I remember insisting Sissy put a glow stick (Pardon me, Sergeant, ‘chem light!’) in her back pocket so I could see her playing on the monkey bars and stuff. I was terrified that gators would come up from the pond and eat her. Sassy sat happily in the back of a truck, eating candy and being cute. Moo was a very Mooish two: she was hard to contain. I held her most of the night while I watched Sissy like a hawk.
When it was time to go through the haunted woods, of course Moo wanted to go. Since her father was one of the scary things in the woods, I had to take her. You can imagine my excitement.
I began on a path through the woods, and was about ten feet in when I realized I couldn’t see a thing. I mean, I couldn’t see the path, I couldn’t see the baby in my arms, I couldn’t see! I was creep-walking like the fucking Pink Panther, and still tripping over branches. This seemed to go on forever.
Suddenly, Moo said, “Daddy!”
“Daddy!” she leaned away from me.
I could not see anything. I stopped moving and held her close, fearing my child was about to leap into the arms of a bansheegnomewerewolfdryadfairymonster.
“C’mere Baby,” he said.
The Mister was right there. Right in front of me. I could not see him. He took Moo. I held onto his waist and high-stepped behind him, out of the woods, back to the campground.
Moo can see in the dark, which again begs the question, If you can see in the dark, why are you always turning lights on?!?