“It’s not going too well,” I hollered downstairs to my wife. She had noticed my prolonged absence from the living room and decided to do a verbal check-in by shouting to see if I was OK. I had ventured upstairs for a simple task: change the burned out light bulb in the bathroom.

I should start by saying that’s not quite the whole truth. I went upstairs to change the light bulb in the bathroom and two attached to our bedroom ceiling fan. Prior to coming upstairs, I put in two new bulbs in the entry way, one in the kitchen, and two in the dining room light fixture. Does that total eight? We had eight burned out lights in our townhouse.

No, we weren’t living the dark. Our dwelling place is well lit, and I honestly wasn’t bothered by the extinguished bulbs until the entryway lights gave out. It wasn’t until I planned my trip to the store to purchase new bulbs that I realized I had turned into my father. I cannot possibly count how many times growing up my mom would reference a light bulb that needed to be changed, yet my dad would remain unphased by the slightly dimmer room. I always thought this was a peculiar choice, but I’m beginning to realize it wasn’t a choice to ignore the burned out bulb; it just wasn’t yet dark enough to feel like a new one was necessary.

To rectify the situation, I took photos of all of our light bulbs and ventured to the store to stock up. I’m paying particularly close attention to the details now that Sera and I are in the process of purchasing our first home. The style, the shade of white, the watts, are all suddenly more fascinating to me as I walked through the aisle. There truly is a plethora of options when it comes to choosing light bulbs, but I went for the cheapest because we’re moving out of this place in a month in a half.

Upon returning home, the light bulbs were installed one-by-one until I reached the very last new bulb — bulb No. 8. Our bathroom has a row of five lights above the mirror to better reveal just how tired I look every morning. The bulb on the far right was the culprit. I don’t recall it recently going out, so I’m guessing it’d been worthless for a few months. When it came time to unscrew it, the light bulb shattered in my hand, causing glass to fly across the small bathroom in all directions and in various sizes. What a dangerous mess.

Not only is there glass everywhere, but I can hardly see because I’m using the dim light from my iPhone to pick up the pieces. Of course when you most need the light, you can’t turn it on. As I attempt to clean up the glass, I’m reminded of the popular “How many _____ does it take to change a light bulb?” jokes. It was at that very moment when Sera decided to check in on me. Apparently it takes more than one Knutson to successfully change a light bulb.

The shattered glass was one problem, but the remnants of the bulb were still in the socket. Without the glass to turn, how was I suppose to remove it from the socket in order to replace it with a new bulb? I consulted my computer for solutions. Some websites recommended using pliers, others said I should turn off the power to the bathroom before things got even worse, and one even recommended using a baked potato. I can only assume the baked potato idea came from someone who had been electrocuted after they failed to turn off the power. For your curiosity, the pliers worked just fine.

As we embark on this journey toward home ownership, I’m certain we’ll be consulting Google frequently. I’ve told my wife how excited I am to have our own place, to figure out how to fix something instead of just calling the landlord. Yes, the luxury of it “not being my problem” has been nice, and I’m sure it will be something we reflect back upon and miss in a time of crisis, but it seems like an exciting adventure right now. A broken light bulb is just a tip of the iceberg for what’s to come. There will likely be many more, “It’s not going too well” statements down the road, but I’ll always have Sera (diligently cleaning up the broken pieces of glass I missed) being my light bulb that won’t burn out.

 

Rochester resident Matt Knutson is the communications and events director for United Way of Olmsted County.