Today I think we all learned a valuable lesson. That lesson is ‘no one in this family is qualified to do anything, and we need professionals to do it for us’. Yep, I’m definitely included in that.

Our story begins this morning, when everyone got here for Grandpa’s 70th. Auntie Mavis noticed that we were having a bit of a flickering problem with the lights, and they went off entirely while she was in the bathroom, so she said that we maybe needed to get some home rewiring done.

A normal family might have solved the problem at this point by calling in a residential electrician, because things that go on behind the walls aren’t to be trifled with if you aren’t an expert. But Grandpa says that he’s still got his electrician training from fifty-five years ago, and he may not have been an electrician for several decades, but “power never changes, mark my words!” So we’re all sitting there eating cake, listening to Grandpa, Uncle Tom, Kevin and four-year-old Grace tearing out wires from the walls like they know what they’re doing. After about an hour, Grandpa finally admits that “power has changed,” and he really doesn’t know what he’s doing, and now NONE of the electricity works and there are holes in the walls, so I get a bright idea. I call over Maxine from over the road because she’s done her electrician training, and who really cares if she can’t reliably use one arm because of electrical nerve damage?

So Maxine managed to trip a circuit breaker or something…and now we have no hot water and no power, so…great event all around, I say. Now we’ve called up an electrician available in Bayside, like we should have done, and we’ve learned a valuable lesson about pride. Pride, overconfidence, prideful overconfidence…and our own helplessness in the face of electrical rewiring.