The Joy of Light

You get a chair. You get a light bulb. You get on the chair. You stretch and try and turn the old light bulb. No-one seems to care if you have light in this part of the house or not, except a four year old who can’t do it herself. You stretch a little bit more, but it’s stuck. You can’t call for help, coz when you look down you have a 4 year old looking up to you, literally, expecting her Mommy to change the light bulb so she can play with her toys in her room.

You can’t even let out a power word, because the walls have ears. You get a suitcase. You put it on the chair. Perfect. The old light bulb turns eventually with much effort. You get down and look for the new light bulb, coz on your mission to find the suitcase you left it somewhere in the house.

You find it. You get on the chair. You step on the suitcase. Now you have to find the beginning of the thread so you don’t screw it on wrong. After a couple of turns you find it.

You ask her to switch on the light. Magic!

You walk down the hall past the couch where he sits. You feel like throwing the old light bulb at the Rugby on TV. You throw it in the bin instead, and then you smile and think of a little girl playing with her dolls with the joy of light in her room.