Like many homes these days, we have a few electrical outlets
that are grounded...I think it is a 'safety feature'. I know you
have seen them, they have those red and black buttons on
them so you can reset them:
I believe that when you have outside electrical outlets, and
they get wet when it rains, it trips them off, and you can't use
certain outlets inside the house that they are connected to
until it dries out. You can hit the red reset button on the
switch, and the other outlets will again work. But if the switch
is still wet, it will trip off again.
So let me finish setting this up...it just so happens that I
have the reset switch in MY bathroom, and luckily enough,
the electrical outlet in The Daughter's bathroom is connected
to this switch. Which means I have the power to turn the
electricity in her bathroom on or off.
Being a teenager now (well, in another 3 weeks, anyway) she
spends a lot of time in her little bathroom. She needs power for
her radio, her hairdryer, and the small lamp she has plugged in
for a nightlight.
It rained all day here yesterday. We got home from work and I
knew the switch had tripped. I hit the red button to reset it,
but if the circuit is not completely dry, it will trip off again
after a minute or two.
The Daughter heads into her bathroom to primp and preen, and
when the switch trips off the light goes out in there. I hit the
reset button again, it stays on for a minute, then goes off. I
can hear the grunts of surprise coming from The Daughter now
as the light goes on and off.
"Madre!" she calls (she is on a kick where she calls us Madre
and Padre). "The lamp in my bathroom is creepy!"
(Creepy is one her favorite words lately, and I am known as
"What do you mean, creepy?" asks my bride.
"It keeps turning off and on by itself. Come look."
My bride goes in there, the lamp is on. "It's fine," she says,
and leaves. Now it flips off again, and I hit the switch to
turn it back on from my remote location.
Are you starting to understand how much fun I have with
The Daughter, and how much she no doubt enjoys living in
the same house as me?
I decide to go into her bathroom to see what is going on.
"May I help you?" she asks graciously.
I make a big show of unplugging and re-plugging the cord into
the socket, and make sure the bulb is screwed in tightly.
"Seems ok to me," I tell her. "Are you sure you didn't bump it?"
"No, it keeps going on and off by itself. It's creepy!"
"Well, if I fix it, can I have a hug?"
"No, go away, creeper!"
I go and fetch a Hug Coupon to bring her.
When she was ten, she made the mistake of creating a stack
of Hug Coupons for me...each one is good for a hug, all neatly
When she gave them to me, I asked her if there were
any restrictions, black-out dates, or expiration on them. She
assured me they would be valid forever. Little did she realize
that in two years she would be twelve, and have little desire to
hug her daddy.
However, surprisingly, she still honors those coupons, and when
I present one to her, I still get a hug, however reluctantly. As
I get my quick hug, I realize she is not very much shorter than
I am. I remember back just 12 short years ago how I used to
carry her cradled in one arm like a football, with a spit-up towel
always draped over my shoulder.
Now when I look in her bathroom, I see bras on the floor, razors
in the sink, and deodorant in her cabinet. I wipe back a tear
from my face as she terminates the hug.
I make it a point to not bombard her with too many hug requests,
lest she get upset and refuse to honor them. I do not abuse the
privilege of the Hug Coupon.
Peace be with you.