Jackie Wells-Fauth
It happened again the other day. Roy had to buy himself a new reading lamp and after he had unpacked and assembled it, he asked that fatal question:
“Where are the lightbulbs? This didn’t come with lightbulbs.”
What he may not know (and should by now) is that his wife doesn’t come with lightbulbs, either. There is never a spare lightbulb in the house, unless it is lying unwrapped in the cupboard and cracked so that it will not light. As I was sneaking around the house, stealing lightbulbs from any available unlit lamp, I reflected on this fact. The idea that I am the keeper of supplies (known in the Army as the Quartermaster) is a little like putting a four-year-old in charge of the aspirin supply. I never know how much of anything we have and the chances that we are out of something is equal to the desperation for which we need it.
My shopping lists are usually very detailed. They give me everything I need when I go to the store. And while I am at the store, the shopping list is laying conveniently on the counter at home. That forces me to shop by what I like to call the “take a stab at it and rely on my ever more failing memory.” This is not a good method.
While things like lightbulbs and stamps and ink pens are neglected in supply at our house, I have at present four boxes of Zesta saltines, five and a half tubes of Crest toothpaste and enough eggs to feed an actual army if they came for breakfast.
I like to make jelly when I can get my hands on enough chokecherries. I know that sometimes lids are in short supply, so the fact that I have a kitchen drawer I can’t shut because of all the lids doesn’t surprise me. What I’m still trying to figure out is why I felt the need to buy four packs of a dozen jelly jars each—given the fact that it has been three years since I made jelly. Now those are at least useful. Having never been taken out of the package, they make an excellent place for me to store all the bottles of Super glue, hot glue and Elmer’s glue that I have drying in the basement. They also are great support for the two dozen glue guns that I keep in stock. You think I’m joking…I wish I was!
I try to make do when I must. I have found that those large Christmas light bulbs, of which I have dozens, fit into most of my lamps, so Roy is lucky that he did not get a red or green light to read by until I was able to re-stock regular lightbulbs. Too many crackers lead to a lot of soup (if I have any in stock) and the eggs can be used in any number of dishes, until I start clucking like a chicken and have to desist.
I can’t even imagine what life would be like for me in the quartermaster’s corps. My father used to describe the work he had to do to keep uniforms and equipment available for the soldiers in his unit when he had to serve on the supply line. He made jokes about the wrong sizes, wrong equipment, etc., but I have to say that had I been in charge, it would probably not have been funny!
Imagine we are in the forests of middle Europe. Guns are blazing, troops are advancing, and I am in charge of supply.
“Sergeant Fauth, we need more bullets!” would come the demand.
“I’m all out of bullets; I’ll have to go to the store. While I’m gone, just fire these tubes of toothpaste at them. Aim for the eyes!”
I would be demoted in a real hurry on that job. And when I couldn’t find any lightbulbs for Roy to put in his new lamp, I was demoted to undependable at my house as well.
I don’t see myself getting any better at this supply thing, so when I finally did get lightbulbs, I only got enough to fill his lamp, with one left over. That one is presently on a shelf in the bathroom…and I’m pretty sure I cracked it when I put it in there!
dropsinthewell 