Not a Morning Person . . .

My sister and my two nephews were coming in from North Georgia to spend the weekend, so I'd done the usual exhausting things one does to prepare for visitors--clean, clean, clean, pick up multiple dog chews off the floor, vacuum, put out beach towels, straighten up around the pool, sweep the acorns off the deck, collect seemingly dozens of Jack's caps and tiny pieces of paper with equations, diagrams, and numbers scattered around the house, and so on. Also, I made a check-up appointment early in the a.m. (at Jack's request) for dog Bear.

Jack is an early bird which is mainly dangerous when he's not at work, so since it's Saturday and family is coming, I drag myself out of bed early despite my wee night hours habits. You see, for some reason, whenever I've prepared extensively for such occasions, Jack looks around and apparently says to himself, "Gee, this would be a great time to . . . " And mind you, he's done all of the following during the day of such events:

• dismantle the entire stove and clean all the parts after placing those parts all over the kitchen floor and previously clean countertops
• paint the deck just before our new neighbors and their four small children arrive for a barbecue . . . on the deck
• fix that foggy window that's been in said condition for about five years. Oops, the glass broke!
• throw some extra chemicals into a perfectly clear pool rendering it extra cloudy for the entire visit
• tear down the stairs leading to the front door which happens to be around eight feet above ground level

So, suspecting such shenanigans, I sleepily find Jack with the light switch removed from the wall, wires protruding askew, mere inches from the door where myriad teenage boys will be repeatedly entering and exiting while wearing wet bathing trunks. Not being a morning person, I croak out my first question of the day, "Why? Why are you doing that?!"

"Calm down, it will be fixed in a minute. I just want to get that light working over there."

"It hasn't worked for about three years. Why now? The kids will be here any minute!"

"Don't exaggerate. It's only been out for about a year and a half. Those damn builders [who built the house 24 years ago by the way] didn't know what they were doing. This wiring is all wrong."

"Then is it really a good idea to be sticking a needle-nose pliers around in there?"

"I know what I'm doing."

POW!

My heart's pounding and thankfully Jack's is still beating, but the electricity is out. Five minutes remains before Bear's scheduled appointment. "I'll fix it when I get back," Jack says. I decide to take a nice, hot shower . . . in the dark of course . . . to calm my nerves. Ever notice there's not a lot of productive things one can do when the electricity is down?

About an hour into the dark ages, Jack returns with Bear. "The vet says he weighs 198 pounds."

"That's ridiculous!" I say.

"No, he weighs 198 pounds!"

"If he weighs 198 pounds, let's call the Book of World Records."

"Oh you're right; it's 98 pounds and he needs to lose six pounds. She said one of his eyes is a bit cloudy and she noticed that back in 2002."

"Well since this is a new vet at the practice and it's the first time she's seen Bear and since Bear is only three years old, that doesn't seem right."

"True. I don't know what she's talking about. What are we going to do anyway, get him prescription goggles?"

(Note to self: Call the friggin' vet on Monday.)

Now it's time to repair the lights by testing the breakers. My role is to run into every room of the house to yell yes or no if the lights come on as Jack switches breakers in the basement. The only light that works is the outside deck light so I'm told to watch that one. I'm yelling yes and no through the back door when Jack comes up disgruntled and directs, "I can't hear you! Yell into the house, into the house!"

Oh thanks for those instructions. Here I'd been yelling over the neighbors' fence.

Finally the lights are back on and nephew electrocution doesn't seem as likely. The wires are stuffed into the wall and covered by the switch plate. And what about the non-functioning light that was the focus of all this activity? It still doesn't work. But no worries. If I have any plans for visitors over the next couple of years, Jack can work on it then.