When we bought our house, lighting was a noticeable, but insignificant issue. Mainly, I didn’t like most of the light fixtures, but you know, those can be changed, and having light is good.
The first one to be fixed was the master bath. We no longer remember exactly, but we do think there were FIVE ONE-HUNDRED WATT BULBS in there. Pupillary torture. MY EYES! MY EYES!
Brushing teeth, washing face — am I getting sunburnt? Pee quickly, lest you get a migraine! Hadda shine up the potty like he was auditioning on Broadway.
In contrast, the main bathroom has a low-light overhead and low-light sconces. This, combined with the old leaded-glass mirror is pure magic. Gazing into it renders you younger, more beautiful — and of course, that elicits a smile, which makes anyone look better.
I imagine everyone takes selfies in our bathroom.
All the women visitors love that mirror, because it declares each one the fairest of all.
yes, wash your hands, your beautiful hands, you’re a goddess and this water is the fountain of youth…
For a time, I was certain my family and pets came into the bathroom to worship my delicate beauty in the glow of the dimmer.
But then, later, I’d go into the master bath and scream in horror, having left my beauty in the main bath.
you can’t expose gremlins to bright light.
I had to face the truth of my weeping eyeliner wings and my lopsided eyebrows. I’d have to floss my gnarly, stained teeth, wash my red, crater-ridden face, and moisturize my spotted alligator hands.
Fortunately, there’s not enough room for The Mister to join me in there, so he never had to see the atrocity. I would slink into the bedroom, grateful for my husband’s undying affection. bless his heart, he doesn’t even know he makes love to a hideous monster with four shadowy, whiskery chins and only five lower lashes .
For some time, we tried to use whatever light came in and then finally, he replaced those bulbs with some soft twenty-watters and we were like, “Ah.”
Slowly, I grew ever more beautiful over time.
Age gracefully? Of course. Anyone can age gracefully… as the bulbs slowly burn-out.
And then The Mister put in the energy-saving bulbs that claim to be thirteen watts, but I know they are really TWO-HUNDRED WATT HALOGENS.
We can’t actually read the bulbs. We have to ask Moo to go in and read the bulbs.
“Stop! Two is plenty!” persephone be damned, i am frankenstein’s bride.
Monday came and it was time to put on the face that meets the other faces:
I put on my face, took my face off, put on my face again, and finally, went to the other bathroom for validation.
hm, i look like me. this is how i look, right?
I went back to the master bath, grimaced, turned the light off, and went to work.
I asked Mentor, “How do I look? How’s my make up? Do I look different or weird in any way?”
She studied me carefully and pronounced that I looked fine.
“Oh good,” I said, “The Mister changed the lighting in the bathroom and now I look like a forty-three-year-old mother of four.”
And we laughed and laughed!
Happy Friday Everyone!