Pocket Gets Stuck Between a Buggy and a Hard Place

Last Wednesday, something very frightening happened to me, and it was because my parents can’t change a lightbulb. 

Several years ago, my parents had a ceiling light installed over their chairs in the living room because people of a certain age need a lot of light.  It was pretty. It was comprised of three small lights, snuggly placed in three globes. It kept our home a clean and well-lit place.

Eventually, one of the tiny light bulbs blew.  Daddy got out the step ladder and climbed up to change it.  He figured it would be easier if he removed the globe then to try and get his fingers in the small place between it and the bulb.  He tried unscrewing the globe with no luck. He then gave it a good Yankee tug. The globe, along with the fixture that held the globe in place, came down. A small ring, a vital part of the assembly, had broken.  My parents had to order and new one and wait three weeks for the part to arrive. 

When it arrived, Daddy had to put the part inside the smallest and deepest part of the fixture, which was designed facing downward, adding gravity to the degree of difficulty. Luckily Daddy has little hands.  (Note: He says that the myth isn’t true, and “it” is normal-sized." Probably because he is saying that while holding it in his tiny doll hands.) He was able to get all the pieces inside the fixture, attach the globe, and then, after several tries, get the light into the socket.  Then he realized he would have to screw the bulb in, which could only be accomplished by putting his thumb on the glass part of the bulb, twisting it, and hoping the bulb would twist with it and would hold.

For three years, Daddy struggled screwing in the light bulbs.  Sometimes it would take him a half an hour to do one bulb. Late last year, when a light blew, my parents decided to let all three go out, and then replace the entire unit.   The second blew in January. The third light bulb held on like Sean Spicer on Dancing with the Stars. So many times, my parents thought it would go out, but for a record ten months, it stayed on. My parents finally decided to give in and replace it before Sean was blown out 

On Wednesday, a man came in to take down the old light fixture and put it in the new one.  At first, we were placed in the bathroom. When Mommy needed to use the sit-down water bowl, Daddy got our buggy and put us inside.  As we always do in our buggy, we were good girls and waited patiently. After a half-hour, the man left without giving us a chance to sniff.

I was prepared to be removed from the stroller, but instead, my parents began cleaning up the work product. I decided I had enough buggy time.  There was a small opening between the front and back sections of the stroller. During the garden time, I stick my head out until one of my parents tells me to settle down.

But, I had grown impatient.  I stuck my head out and then pushed with my back legs.  I got half-way out, with my rib cage and above on the outside, and the rest stuck on the inside.  The buggy began to squeeze me, and I started to wheeze excitedly.

My parents rushed into the kitchen and saw me stuck.  Daddy tried to pull, but my back in, but my hind end did not cooperate.  Mommy took over. She said it was just like giving birth. She eased me out of the kennel, and I was reborn.  Then I saw the afterbirth:


I wheezed for a minute and then was as good as new.  Now I am breathing easily, and our living room is lit up like someone is shooting a Netflix movie.



I can’t help thinking none of this would have occurred if someone had been able to screw in a light bulb.