WORKING TOGETHER FOR MORE TOGETHERNESS? BE A FAN

Working together for change is a good thing.

What about married people working together to install a fan?

A suburban ceiling fan, the sort seen in sad real estate ads for houses with ‘potential’, got replaced.

Her: Did you see the new fan instructions? We need an electrician.

Him: I’ve got the same screw driver and pliers they use.

Her: So many wires out of so many places.

What could go wrong with these two ‘working together?’

Him: A safety cable three feet long. What’s that for?

Her: Who should I call?

Him: Call me. It’s a ceiling fan. How hard can it be?

Her: I remember the last time when you cut your finger off at midnight.

Him: That’s not what happened. The blade slipped.

Her: The tip of your finger was hinged on a thread of skin.

Him: It was a thick cut. Not a bad scar.

In the timeless dual between men and women trying to agree, one side errors toward caution, one side on luck, with a hoped for result at the end.

Working Together Needs Goals

Her: How can you tell which wires go where?

Him: By not getting shocked.

Her: Which one goes to the fan?

Him: Got to be a big one. This thing looks like an airplane propellor.

Her: It’s the biggest I could find and I’ve been looking for years.

Him: Too many wires. We want a simple fan with an on/off switch, not a high tech gizmo with a remote to get lost. How much did it cost?

Her: Then send it back if it’s too much.

Him: That much for this? Holy hell. How much is too much?

Her: Send it back.

Him: For that much it must have something going for it.

Her: I looked for years.

Him: I’m looking now. Why all the stacked components?

Her: If it’s too much for you, I’ll get someone.

Him: It might take awhile.

Her: Like the stairs? That long?

Him: No, but a few days.

Her: It’s a two hour job, max. I don’t want any missing parts left over.

Him: The thing is wired like a magneto. We don’t want to burn down the house.

Her: That’s a good daily goal.

Four days of ladders and dust and blood

Her: It won’t turn on. The remote is broken.

Him: Tap it, don’t push it.

Her. The light is glaring even turned down low.

Him: I’ll put the diffuser in. Better?

Her: Classic. And I know you did it right.

Him: How do you know that.

Her: I watched my dad fix everything growing up. We never had to buy anything new.

Him: You’ve said that before.

Her: He put things together and took them apart like you just did.

Him: Sounds like someone’s got a new daddy.

Her: Can you put the same fan in the bedroom?

Him: I’d need a long down-tube, which explains all the long wires and safety cable.

Her: I think it would work.

Him: Worked out this time.

Her: Do you think you can do it again? I could call someone.

Him: Not for this.

Her: You’ve got it?

Him: Are we working together again?

Her: What can I do to help?

Him: You’re doing just fine.

Her: I didn’t do anything.

Him: Yes, you did. Keep up the good work.