To My Brother, With Love

My brother requested this post – indirectly – so I’d like to take this moment to share with you as well, this entry from my October, 1999 journal. Some of you might even remember this one.

It all started two years ago, this fall. I decided to wallpaper the kitchen. Prepping the room for the paper hanger, I removed all the light switch and outlet covers. The paper hanger came, did the work and left. All was well.

Except for the one outlet cover and tiny little screw left behind. I searched high and low throughout the kitchen to find an outlet without a cover. None were to be found. So I strategically placed the cover and its tiny little screw into protective custody on the countertop, behind the flour canister, in anticipation of the day when it would find its home.

Two winters have come and gone, with a third beckoning at the door. The outlet cover and its tiny little screw have traveled up and down the countertop, from behind the flour canister to behind the radio – and back.

Yesterday, I decided to thoroughly clean off the countertop, from end to end, from top to bottom. I pondered for a moment what to do with the outlet cover and its tiny little screw. Like the flash of a lightning bolt, all of a sudden it came to me. Why not search other rooms in the house for a missing outlet cover? Okay. It didn’t take long and I found one missing in the laundry room – by the dryer. I jumped for joy, rejoicing in the fact that finally, my outlet cover and its tiny little screw would have a home.

With a quick “pouf”, I blew the dust balls (yes, dust balls – imagine that …) off the outlet and the surrounding wall. They fell down behind the dryer, into the dust ball haven, safe and sound from my hap-hazard vacuuming. I proceeded to put the outlet cover in place and gently took the tiny little screw and lifted it into position. Wait – I should get a table knife to use as a screwdriver. Back from the kitchen, I ever so carefully again resumed my position - turning the tiny little screw into the hole.

It made one turn and fell out of the hole. The outlet cover, along with the tiny little screw, fell down – deep down into the pile of dust balls behind the dryer – never to be seen. At least until the Maytag repairman comes again - which, according to my experience, is seldom.