Hubby and I went shopping for a new light fixture for the bathroom and discovered perfection.
It was on an errand-full day and the lighting store ended up being number 9 of 11 errands accomplished in one day. We were a little giddy and a little irritable and when we walked in the store was closing in 28 minutes. We did not have a pre-shopping agreement about our goals. Frankly, we also didn’t have measurements of the wall space we were filling (I wasn’t kidding about that).
I ambushed an employee upon entering and asked if he could devote his last 28 working minutes to us. He agreed and took us to the room with wall-mounted fixtures. The great thing was that almost all of the fixtures were between waist and head height so Hubby could totally participate. We began working our way around the room.
And then we saw it. A Fabulous 1950s diner light fixture. I pointed. “That one!” I said. “Honey, come look at this one!”
It’s not hard to please me when I’m presented with perfection. Now, when guests go Pink they’ll come out asking for a burger and fries. Perrrrrtfect.
(No, we didn’t buy it without measuring. We fell in love without measuring and it worked out. True love is like that.)
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