Today I'm having a new room built upstairs. Should look pretty nice, I think. But there's one catch: they need to get into the crawl space in the attic to cut some hole in the ceiling so they can move a vent. "Okay," I tell them, "Go ahead."
"Well, the light's not working they say. The bulbs blown."
"Here's another I say," handing the guy the bulb.
"Still not working," the man says.
I run downstairs to get my son's winnie the pooh nightlight. "Will this work?" I say, extending my hand out in hopes that he takes it. The man smiles. He doesn't say anything, and I'm still left holding the pooh light.
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