the night the lights went out in lincoln

Before I begin I must tell you I am not incompetent nor lazy.

About two weeks ago the light in my closet burned out (I feel its necessary you know I have an 11ft ceiling in my closet). Anyways for the past two weeks I have made due using my bedroom light and just keeping the closet open. It worked, not perfectly but I sufficed.

Well Tuesday night my bedroom light burnt out. Done. I had NO light in my room or closet. So I did what any rational, independent 20 something would do. I called my Dad.

He made sure I didn't want him to come down right that minute to help, I agreed Wednesday evening would be soon enough. He only laughed and made one ore two jokes about how someday I am going to have to learn to change my own light bulbs. In which I told him I can change a light bulb I just don't stand and bar stools alone to do so. Safety first.

Not even thinking that my Dad wouldn't bring his own light bulbs from his stash I didn't buy any. Well he didn't bring any. Seriously the mad believes everything is better in bulk. Why would I go buy my own light bulbs. I mean I haven't bought light bulbs, well ever.

The moral of this story, my Dad is now answering his phone "Charlie's Electric."

Frankly I don't appreciate it.