Drop the struggle and dance with life!

Jan 16, 2011

The Bulbs. Enough said.

 Yes, this post is about Bulbs. What's so interesting about bulbs, you might ask. It's not bulbs I'm having to deal with, but The Bulbs. 

Being proud owners of a new home, we are guilty of Experiments of Dubious Nature, which never work out well, in my humble opinion (a post about the other E. of D.N. will follow soon).

We decided to experiment. With that decision, I solemnly swear that my involvement in the following disaster was limited to uncontrollable giggling with unfortunate timing at the unbearable number of unlimited bulbs.

I did grow up in a 'tube-light'-ed home. It took me quite-a-while to get used to the yellow bulbs here in US,  which are banished to the bathrooms in India. I'm used to the yellow ones by now, but being bitten (and infected too, I think) with a nostalgia bug, I agreed to tube-light type bulbs.

It took two trips to the store, as we had painfully underestimated the number of bulbs required to light a house this size; A regular sized room requires 4, a smaller room requires 2. So, that's 22 right there. And each package of bulb comes in multiples of 4 or 6, so that meant 6 or 4 packages of bulbs. Then came the choreographed climbing, reaching, screwing, repeated through-out the million (well, it seemed like a million!) rooms that we have. Our daughter delightedly followed us around and took charge of handing the new bulbs over. Apart from making the whole house faded and nondescript, the day-light bulbs gave all of us head-aches.

My immediate and compelling thought was to revert to the yellow ones and cast the lot of day-lights to twilight zone. Dear readers, here is the twist in the story you were expecting, the reason why I called them Blubs, with a capital B.  

Someone disagreed.

Annoyingly (albeit ridiculously), as 'we' were still in experimenting mode, 'we' decided to experiment some more. So, 'we' came back with boxes and boxes of soft-white bulbs, which are actually a light pinky-white. Thus we launched into another round of climbing on chairs, beds, tables and stools to change the bulbs, all the while fighting over who would screw them and who should decide the bulb types. This time around, my sensible daughter rolled her eyes and went back to her dolls.

So, now I have 22 yellow bulbs and 24 day-lights bulbs. But wait, that sounds very less! These are just the 'regular' bulbs. Did I forget to tell you about the hand-sized bulbs which go into the living room recess lighting? Oh, I also forgot the assorted bulbs adorning the hallways, staircases and night-lights? Do you want to hear about the various types of bulbs?

No? I thought so. Couple of days later, we were at the local store, 'experimenting' with chandeliers. As I was discussing the merits of a particular one I liked, I turned to stress a point and realized I was.. err, apparently talking to myself. My hero had disappeared.

With a sneaking suspicion forming in my thoughts, my heart racing, I ran down a couple of isles.YES! He was among bulbs. He looked surprised, embarrassed. I sat down cross-legged, right there next to the rows and rows of bulbs, and laughed. I laughed as passersby gawked, I laughed as my stomach hurt, I laughed as my husband joined in.

PS: In case you need a consult on bulbs, my in-house expert is available (and the bulbs. For free!)