Foods to Get You Through the Day

Dish Five - The Sweet Taste of Home

"Do you know how many wives it takes to change a light bulb?"

My muscles tensed upon the question. Even I knew that it must be a trick question. One wouldn't be the answer since it'd be too obvious, but spout too big a number, I might offend my wife. At my side, my wife was grinning from ear to ear, seemingly so happy after passing me the ticking dynamite. Sighing, I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, play along..." She continued when I was pondering a few possible answers.

Exhaling, I surrendered. "Since the subject is wives, then the answer is 'none'. You could get your husbands to do that kind of job."

My wife beamed upon my answer, "Clever husband. The ladder is on the wall behind you."

I chuckled in defeat as I went to grab the aluminum A-frame ladder, while my wife skipped happily to get the light bulb boxes from a particular table near the front windows. It was very much my wife to use trick quizzes when she wanted to prompt me to do things.

The house was an utter mess. Crates, chests, and boxes were piled up into towers everywhere, while tables and chairs were buried under various things from curtains to toy baskets. At least, most furniture was already in their right location throughout the house, while the sturdy men from the moving service were busy with the heavy lifting. Faintly I heard my wife telling the men where she wanted the refrigerator to be placed, while I retracted the ladder and climbed up to check on the lamp socket. Not long after, my wife returned, shouldering a big cloth tote bag bulging with light bulb boxes. She put the bag on the floor, pulled a box and aptly got the bulb out in one fluid continuity.

Handing me the LED bulb, my wife grabbed the ladder feet to stabilize it. Stretching my sore neck, I started to screw the bulb into the socket, giving it a soft tug, then released it again as soon as I realized I didn't screw it flatly. Only after the third attempt, I got it right.

"Turn it on, please." Looking down, I gave my wife a thumb-up. My wife moved to the switch on the wall and gently pressed it.

I flinched and faced away while squeezing my eyes shut when the light suddenly turned on. I forgot how bright that one was. The ladder rocked violently under my sudden move, prompting my wife to rush and catch it to save me from falling to the ceramic floor. "Whoa, easy there."

"Thanks. That was close." I swung my legs to the side. Pinching the ladder frame sides between my knees and my palms, I slid down to the floor like a fireman.

"Show off." My wife reproached me with a ginger smile, "Don't do that in front of the kids. They might get into a serious accident copying you."

"But it was cool, right?" I spread my arms like a showman.

My wife grunted, not one bit impressed. "What are you? Eleven? Come on, it's getting late, and we still have tons of work to do."

Opening the clasp of the ladder, I folded it and moved it to under the next socket. Again and again we repeated the process until no more socket was unoccupied, albeit sans the ladder rocking or the circus stunt.

***

It was the day when we finally moved into the new house, one that we finally would call ours, when we finished paying the mortgage, that was. And despite the fact that throughout the whole seven years of marriage and rent-houses hopping, I and my wife had devotedly kept the amount of our belongings to a frugal degree, in the meaning half of the house would be left unfurnished when we were done arranging, there were still myriad of things that called for our attention. And since we drained the lion share of our joint balance into the down payment of that house, we were kind of hindered from hiring more helpers.