Love Letter No. 1: I Love Lamp

NOTE: A little writing exercise/example for my BYU-Idaho students, who have to write a love letter this week.

My wife should know better. But sometimes she forgets.

Like a few Christmases ago, when she got for me, as a joke, an itty-bitty flashlight I can strap to my finger.

Being a male of a certain age, of course I strapped it to my finger and tried to chase her around the house while saying “Ouch!” waving the lit flashlight in her face. She had about the same reaction Elliot did when ET, in the movie “ET The Extra Terrestrial” did when he waved his glowing finger in his face: Silence. Except it wasn’t fear on my wife’s face, just a knowing smirk and a roll of her eyes.

I love that flashlight.

I’ve used it to light the way as I replace headlight bulbs in our cars. It helps me locate shoes that got shoved under the bed. I once used it in a complicated way with two mirrors to try to see what it was that was making my left ear itch. Turned out to be ear hair. Who knew it grows like that?

I have used it to read at night, hiding under the covers with my book, just like I did when I was a kid. I’m not really sure who I’m hiding from these days, except maybe the fact that I should have been asleep a half hour ago so I’m rested enough to get up when the alarm goes off at 4:30; I don’t want to miss my bus to work.

Its light is bright, and I have yet to replace the batteries. Every time I turn it on, it’s a miracle. Such a little light bringing hope when all around has gone dark, if I can paraphrase Galadriel.  It’s on my desk right now, next to the new roll of masking tape and the two finger-mountable Rock ‘em Sock ‘em Robots, fruit of this year’s Christmas. Faithful, ready to go to work.

Speaking of this Christmas: My wife got me a headlamp, with a nice little battery pack that straps to the back of my head. When I saw it, I ripped open its plastic clamshell packaging, put the light on my forehead and then ran to my desk to get my finger light. I strapped both of them on, turned them on, then went up to my wife, saying “Ouch!”

Got that smirk, that roll of the eyes.

I now have two lamps to love. Maybe in a few more years, when my wife forgets again, I’ll get another.