When I walk through the house and see lights on in empty rooms, I feel assaulted by the blinding lights —yes, just like The Weekend. I am curious as to why no one can turn off the lights before they leave a room. Is it that hard? Is it punishment for my youth? I remember getting annoyed with my mom for nagging me about turning off the lights when I was a child. Or, maybe it’s some sort of deterrence to scare off burglars? Probably not, since the lights are on in the middle of the day and in rooms not visible from a street or window. Maybe this is a hazing ritual for fathers.
Excuses
When I do confront someone in the house about the lights, I get an array of responses from the perpetrators. My wife tells me she was going back to the room where the light was on — I think to myself, “when?” and “which room?” The closet? The bedroom? The bathroom? The lights were on in all of them. Or, I am angrily told that “we” don’t live in a cave and “we” want to be able to “see” in this house. This makes me wonder, who can “see” in an empty room?
When I inquire with my son as to why he did not turn off the lights in his room or bathroom, he just shrugs. I try explaining that electricity costs money. The point is not getting across just yet. In a way, I understand. If you are not paying the electricity bill, does electricity really cost money? It is like a tree falling in the forest with no one around. Does it really make a sound?
Comic Relief
At times, the light situation can be comical. On one occasion, I recall making the rounds through the bedroom, bathroom, living room, and hallway. Over a two to three-minute period, I shut off a light in one room, only to come back 30 seconds later and find it on again with not a soul in sight. I laughed to myself and thought the only thing missing is the Benny Hill chase music.
Enlightenment
Of course, I want to save money on electricity. I have asked Google for help on the issue and there is no shortage of advice on the internet. Countdown timers, automating lights, sharing the energy bill with the kids, and the list goes on. But, as a dad, I have learned to pick my battles. Considering I am lucky in so many other aspects with my family, I can live with a few forgotten lights on here and there — just don’t tell my family. Don’t get me wrong though, I am still going to nag everyone constantly about the lights and remind them money does not grow on trees.
In the midst of the frustration and comedy of lights, I’ve come to see this as a rite of passage into fatherhood. It’s a humorous yet poignant reminder of the responsibilities and challenges that come with managing a household. Despite the exasperation, these moments serve as reminders of the love and laughter that fill our home, making the switch-off saga a unique part of my journey as a dad.