Turn out the light after you hop in bed

Yet, again, we were both in bed, and neither of us had turned out the overhead light. In the almost two years we’ve been married, I’ve run out of fingers and toes to count the number of times we both assume the other will turn out the overhead light and end up cozied under the covers with the light still on.

By now, you’d think we would have some kind of system for making sure such things are handled, but no, we both manage some kind of mild amnesia right when it’s time to hit the sack. What startles me is that I haven’t started always remembering, just to save myself the agony of possibly having to venture back into the cold of the room after having tasted the glorious warmth of the space beneath the covers. Even more surprising is that my husband hasn’t clicked into his energy-saving gear and dispatched with the overhead light altogether, since the bedside lamp does a fine job for just getting ready for bed or in-bed reading. This is one time I would have absolutely no hesitation or objection whatsoever, delighted with the savings and the removal of all possibility of having to dart back out of bed, trying to get across the room, turn off the light, and get back under the covers before my nerves registered the cold.

Another surprise to me is that my gadget-happy electrician husband hasn’t installed some kind of remote control for the light. Our split-system air conditioner has a remote control, which he explained to me would be great for fiddling with the system after we’d crawled into bed. In other parts of the house, we have motion sensors for lights, too, although that wouldn’t quite work in the bedroom. With all the gadgets he sees in the course of a week, working in commercial and residential facilities, I’m astounded that he hasn’t landed on something perfect for compensating for our forgetfulness.

It’s not just the bedroom light, either. Often, we’ll be cocooned under the covers, finally starting to unwind after a long day, slowly releasing the tension from thoroughly-stressed muscles, and one of us will notice that there’s just a little too much of a glow leaking into the bedroom from the kitchen…some random light got missed in the bedtime light-killing ritual. This is even worse, since you have to leave the relative warmth of the carpet and venture across a cold-leaking wood floor to get to the usual culprits. Less painful is the bathroom light, since there’s a fuzzy rug on that floor, but the return vent in their has a nasty habit of sending up just enough cold air, on the coldest nights, to make you confident you’ll never again forget those bothersome lights.

Maybe we should up our levels of ginko biloba, to boost our powers of memory, or maybe we should just get more sleep, so we’re generally more alert…or maybe I should try to convince my husband that we need a whole-house remote control system for the lights.

Leave a Comment

Previous post:

Next post: