Phil and Weeza came over last night – now they have a car of their own and they brought mine back. After dinner, they went next door to see Dilly and Al. I went outside a few minutes later and remarked how warm and humid it was. “Could you replace the bulb in the outside light before long, please?” I asked. “It’s been months.” I didn’t exaggerate. It’s been at least three months, could be up to six. I’d have done it myself, except the shade needs two of my little girly hands to open it and it’s stiff, so I don’t want to let go of the ladder. A proper man-size hand can open it easily.
I went to fetch a bulb to leave out and jog his memory. While I was fetching it, I heard the torch being wound up. I followed him outside, where he was fetching a ladder. “You don’t have to do it now, it’s dark,” I said. “You’ll be out tomorrow morning,” he replied. “You can hold the ladder.” “I’ll be back mid-afternoon.” “Yes, but I might forget and then you’ll mention it again.”
I have always gone by the idea that mentioning something once is a request or information. Twice is a reminder. Three times risks being looked upon as a nag. It seems that the goalposts have shifted. “Damn, the light just went” is allowed. However many months spent fumbling in the darkness later it’s referred to again, that is nagging.
I held the ladder and thanked him for putting in the new bulb. He is a sensitive man, and he appreciated that.
There was a sensational lightning storm later, and then the rain came down in torrents.