Lamps and Jackboots

We actually did it, Carlos and I. We actually found a lamp for over the dining table that we both like and could agree upon. It's simple, really, but the architecture of the lamp resembles the base of our new dining table a little bit, so it fits so nicely.

It was beautiful. Until. Installation.

Cue the hounds.

Carlos does not read instructions. Won't. Can't. Doesn't. He feels that if you've installed one light fixture, well then, aren't all light fixtures the same? And I usually defer to him on the subject because I have this mental image of me installing the lamp followed by a flash of light, followed by me sailing across the room, splatting against a wall.

Yeah, let Carlos do it.

But I do say read the instructions and he says he did. However, assembling the lamp becomes a half-hour chore. He tries. I try. He tries. I try. Tiny screws and curse words.

Hold the flashlight for me.

Where's the screw?

It doesn't fit!

And finally, we get the lamp assembled. Now comes the hard part. Carlos heads to the circuit breaker to turn off power to the old lamp, and I stand in the dining room. It goes a little something like this.

Now?

No.
Now?
No.

Now?
No.

Now?
No.

Now?
No.

Now?
No.

He says he hit every breaker and why won't the light go off. The TV did; the microwave, too. Ceiling fans and computers and other lights all went off, then on again, but not the dining room. I give it a try. I say to Carlos, Did you flick the switch marked dining room?

They aren't labeled right, he says.

I flick the switch marked dining room.

That's it!

Rocket science.

So, we proceed to remove the old, ugly, really, ugly, lamp, and hang the new one. I ask again if he read the instructions, and I get that look. Y'all know which look. The one that says, Do you wanna wear this lamp?

The metal piece that attaches to the ceiling so you can attach the light goes up. The lamp goes up; the white wire connects to the white wire; black to black, ground to ground. Then comes the cover plate, only Carlos is screwing in screws that will show when we're finished and I say, That can't be right. Can it?

He says, This is how it goes.

Did you read the instructions?

The look.

So, I try it. He tries it. I try it. Not only will the silver screws show, but they will not fit. The screws are three-and-a-half inches apart; the holes are two-and-a-half inches apart. The cover plate comes down; white disconnects from white; black from black, ground from ground. The piece that attaches to the ceiling so you can attach the lamp comes down.

I suggest a 'dry fit.'

Carlos has a regular fit.

But the dry fit shows us that we have put the screws that attach the cover plate to the piece that attaches to the ceiling so you can attach the lamp to it are in the wrong place. And they are upside down.

We rework it.

Up the ladder. The piece that attaches to the ceiling so you can attach the lamp goes up; white to white; black to black; ground to ground. Cover plate. Screws; decorative nuts to cap off the screws. The light is up. The shades go on; the CFLs go in. The switch is thrown.

I bet you thought I was gonna say it didn't work.

It did.

It's pretty. I cracked open a bottle of Big House White from California and toasted the light. Toasted the fact that Carlos didn't beat me over the head with the light. Toasted the fact that no one got electrocuted.

Toasted.