When I was a child, I never liked the game “ghosts in the graveyard.” For those who don’t know, the game is played like this:
The game is played outdoors at nighttime. One person is the ghost and hides while the rest of the group stays on home base and counts "one o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock, rock...'till you got to midnight (after every 3rd number say "rock" in remembrance of the ancient and revered minstrel Bill Haley ). Then the players go search for the ghost. Whoever finds the ghost yells "ghost in the graveyard" and all the seekers run like hell back to home base while the ghost tries to tag them. Whoever is tagged is the next ghost. If the ghost doesn’t tag any one, they remain the ghost for the next round.
This was how the game was played if you were me:
When I was the ghost, I would hide in the most well-lit area I could find because I could never find a place to hide in a truly dark area (it’s hard to find a hiding place when you can’t see.) Also, was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to see if evil spiders were crawling all over me.
Spiders are evil.
Inevitably I would be found, and then I’d run ineffectively after everyone, whom I could not really see in the dark. I’d never tag any one, so I always had to be the ghost until one of the other kids gave up and let me tag them on purpose. Then I’d be a seeker.
As a seeker, I never found the ghost. It was too dark. Then I could never see the ghost chasing me. It was too dark. Ultimately, I’d be tagged, and then I had to be the stupid ghost again.
It turns out I’m night-blind. Also, I run like a pansy.
My night-blindness caused Husband and I to have the constant “light fight.” It always goes like this:
Husband: Why are all these lights on?
Me: I like a well-lit home.
Husband: You have lights on in rooms you’re not even using! You’re wasting money!
Me: We’re talking about pennies a month. Who cares?
Husband: It all adds up!
The problem was solved one day when Husband had the idea to study how terrible my vision actually was in the dark. We went to the darkest area of the house. He stood in front of me with his hand out, and brought it incrementally closer to my face. When I could finally see his hand, I was supposed to say stop.
He ended up smacking me in the face.
We repeated the experiment in various areas of the house with various degrees of lighting. By the end of the experiment, he exclaimed “So THIS is what it’s like! I never knew....”
Thus the great “light-fight” was ended. I get to have as many lights on at night as I want.
Except when we’re sleeping, where when I have to get up to comfort one of the kids I end up running into the bedpost and giving myself a bloody lip.
It’s a win-lose situation.