Here's another installment of "living with a boy" and I'm finding out that for the last 29 years, there's no way that David was actually capable of living without my presence, and I'm really not sure how he survived... :)
Yesterday morning, I had the space heater going in the den when David decided to iron (see he at least does that!), and I kinda had a sneaking suspicion the breaker was going to blow...and it did. With that, he turned to me with a dumbfounded expression like "what'd I break? And how are you going to fix it?" So I told him, "you need to go and flip the switch on the breaker." So off he goes. As if he knew what he was doing. But he was headed first in the wrong direction.
After I corrected him and sent him to the closet in the spare bedroom, I waited for about 3 minutes. Nothing. No heater. No noise at all coming from the spare bedroom closet. I knew what was probably going on. David's not real great with well, anything like this, so I had a feeling he was standing in front of the breaker box, confused, wanting to fix this, but instead, stood there trying to figure out what to do.
After a few minutes, and still nothing, he walks back into the den all proud and smiling. "Is it back on yet?" he asks. Uh, no. So I go look at it, and come to find out, he hadn't switched anything. I can see the switch that needs to be flipped, plain as day (it actually turns red, bright red, to alert us which one is off).
I showed him this, flipped the switch, and asked what he had done to think that the power would be back on. To which he replied, "oh nothing. I just wanted you to come and do it."