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.
About David Gillaspie
