8:42pm , Tuesday

When everyone has gone to bed, I do a bad thing. As far as my wife is concerned, it’s an unspeakable act. But it’s an act that pours out of me like bubbling lava, pent up for years, now overflowing.

After tonight’s bedtime gauntlet, the kids are finally asleep. The wife has crashed. I’m sweeping the kitchen floors. I reach the broom under the kitchen table, it’s black brushes collecting food debris and paper clippings from the days activities.

I sweep and sweep until I here the sound of something that is definitely not food or paper. It’s the sound of plastic tumbling across the tile into my pile of garbage.

It’s a single Light Bright bulb. Orange.

I stare at it. I know I should bend down, pick it up, and return it to the box with the others. But I just stare at it and all the fatherly frustrations flash in front of my face.

The countless commands to clean up after themselves, always falling on deaf ears.

The arguments over eating, dressing, sleeping, and pooping.

The pouting, the crying, the screaming.

The endless duties that seem to suck every second of my me-time away.

I wouldn’t trade it for anything. All the good and beautiful moments outweigh the bad like a bowling ball versus a feather.

The countless requests to climb up on my shoulders and run around the house, ducking door frames.

The laughter over silly sounds, playing games and watching cartoons.

The affection, the crying, the talks at bed time.

I wouldn’t go back to my lonely life for all the money in the world.

But right now, I let the negative feelings have their moment.

I’m staring at that orange light bright bulb and I say “no.”

I feel a rebel spirit come into me as I sweep the bulb in the broom tray. I march to the trash can and toss it in.

Ha! That’s right! I threw away a perfectly good toy. No one will ever know. Half the other bulbs are scattered across the house anyway. The game is already ruined. The kids haven’t played with it in months.

9:58pm Tuesday

As I spread toothpaste on to my brush, the thin line of goop reminds me of the orange light bright bulb. I shake my head and remind myself that it’s their fault; if the kids picked up their toys like I’m always saying, it wouldn’t have come to this. Serves them right!

10:15pm Tuesday

I lay in bed. I imagine the fan blades as light bright colors. Blue, yellow, green, and orange. My wife is asleep next to me. She would be mad if she knew what I did. But I don’t care. I’m a rebel and badass. I’m a man.

12:24am Wednesday

Weird dream of a light bright clown face chasing me down I dark tunnel until I’m falling forever into darkness.

2:02am Wednesday

I quietly sneak out of bed and make my way into the kitchen. I fish the orange light bright bulb out of the trash can and go back to bed.

The End

*This story is based on true events, the only difference being I didn’t go back and pick the light bright bulb out of the trash. I’m a real man.

** Truth be told, that’s how I was planning on ending the story, but I couldn’t help myself and picked it out of the trash. I’m not a real man.