The Slingshot Heard Round the House

Regarding the demise of the compact florescent bulbs, the slingshot idea was brilliant, Melissa! When Scott caught me coming in from the yard wearing a raincoat and galoshes (Michael Kors, of course—I cannot compromise foot fashion, even in the case of outdoor wear) to protect my body from flying glass shards while sporting safety goggles (eye safety cannot be minimized in a situation like this—thank you,Kuj!) and carrying a forked twig in one hand, a nylon stocking in the other, and a handful of stones from the flowerbed in my breast pocket, he knew I meant business. Thus, my fabulously wonderful husband put my eye health before our energy savings and voluntarily removed the compact florescents from the house. Yay! But he refused to take them out of the sockets in the garage. He claims that we hardly ever go in the garage so my chances for contracting eye cancer are very much limited. I claim that the high frequency light waves emitted from the compact florescents kill off the “boom-chicka-wah-wah” hormones necessary for me to feel in the mood. I further pointed out that I have to pass through the garage at least twice a day, which could kill off A LOT of hormones. Scott rolled his eyes to that. So, I guess we’re at a standstill on this issue. We’ll see who caves first.

In any case, we only have six compact florescents left. Since they last an average of nine years, this means I only have to deal with their death rays for…another 56 years.

Seriously, who invented the compact florescent?? How could that person not know that they make everyone around them look like something out of an Anne Rice novel? I need to send a letter of complaint. Humanity should not have to deal with this kind of retinal torture. We need an advocate to fight for our right to flattering lighting, decent eye health and, by default, “boom-chicka-wah-wah.” Beware compact florescent inventor. Beware.

In other news, my three year old used my mother’s lipstick to decorate his face. I came to pick him up from his overnight stay at grandma’s to have him greet me, smiling, at the door with Este’ Lauder’s Peach Shimmer ground into his epidermis. On the bright side, despite the difficulty in getting the lip paste out of his eyebrows, I have to say that Peach Shimmer is a good color for him. If he ever decides to go Boy George on me, I’ll have to keep this shade in mind….