Willy the Lamp

Now that I’m a grown and semi-mature adult, I’m starting to realize what a strange child I was. I’m writing down some of these memories mainly so that my children will know it runs in the family.

When I was 8 my family moved into a house that we ended up remodeling from top to bottom. When it came time to do my room, one of the first “new” things that was installed was a ceiling lamp. Here’s the thing – as an eight year old witnessing my room being transformed before my eyes, I became abnormally attached to everything that was installed. Like, when the crummy floors were covered in beautiful new carpet, it was like “hey, that’s MY new purple carpet, put in there just for ME. It’s like me and the carpet were made for each other”

(Okay, it’s also totally possible that I was just a weird kid and needed more friends and it had nothing to do with my impressionable age. We’re not going to discuss my attachments to inanimate objects at age 27.)

But at any rate, my parents installed this ceiling fan in my room, and I was all like “hey, that ceiling fan is just for ME, it’s like the fan is my friend or something.”

And then my parents decided they didn’t like my ceiling fan and wanted to change it out.  I tried to play it cool and was all like “no, that’s okay, I like the fan that’s there. Please don’t replace it.” But they were super insistent, and kept trying to get me to change my mind, and I was totally not going to betray my fan like that, thankyouverymuch. So then my mom decided to play dirty.

Mom: “Are you friends with the fan or something? Are you going to be sad it’s gone?”

Me, as defensively as possible: “NO! Of course not!”

Obviously I did not play my hand right, because she totally caught on to the fact that I was, in fact, a bit attached to the ceiling fan. Most parents might have taken this moment to not further torture their obviously emotionally strange daughter, but mine saw this as an opportunity.

Mom: “Does it have a name? You know what? We should call it Willy.”

Henry (in the voice of Willy): “Save me Caroline, save me! Don’t let them take me away!”

Me: Fine! Just take the lamp out! I don’t care AT ALL!

So they took the lamp out, and I did care. Especially when my stepfather, Henry, would casually remark in my presence that Willy must be really sad, sitting a dumpster and knowing that I betrayed him.

And guys – I felt really bad. For the lamp. And just to be spiteful I looked that new lamp in the eye(??) and made sure it knew that I would NOT be naming it and we were NOT going to have any kind of attachment here. But of course I didn’t say this out loud because lamps can’t speak and they communicate through telepathy. Duh.

And even now when I go home to visit, the old/new lamp will sometimes start to rattle and annoy me and I think “Willy would never have made this obnoxious sound while I’m trying to sleep.”

So yeah. My abilities to hold a grudge against inanimate objects are unparalleled. At least I win at something.

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8 Thoughts on “Willy the Lamp

  1. Idalhi on March 10, 2012 at said:

    I don’t want to be rude, but every time someone says they don’t want to be rude, it’s because they know they are going to. So here it goes and I’m sorry beforehand :
    Your parents were mean and manipulative. You were a Normal child and it’s a positive surprise that you didn’t grow up to be a hoarder considering the level of emotional abuse you described.

    • Caroline on March 10, 2012 at said:

      Ummm… I’m going to have to assume this comment is meant to be a joke. Or that you think all children are truly that emotionally fragile and incapable of a sense of humor. Which is kinda funny too. Thanks for the laugh :)

      • Idalhi on March 11, 2012 at said:

        Actually I’m serious. Mocking your child is a form of emotional abuse. Mocking your child’s feelings systematically is a proven cause for emotional disorders such as hoarding. You don’t need much to twist a child’s mind. It may seem funny to you because in your household it seemed to be the standard, but it left a strong enough impression in you, that is still present in your mind as an adult.

        • Caroline on March 11, 2012 at said:

          Okay, I’m not sure how a funny anecdote that was obviously exaggerated for humor has been turned into “mocking my emotions systematically”, but I give you props for finding hidden meanings where there were none. It absolutely left an impression on me, mostly because I think it’s funny. Finding out Santa Claus wasn’t real evokes an even more painful memory. That was a real rough time. LOL

  2. that was mean of your parents to tease you, but it was also quite hilarious. maybe its so funny to me because my parents would’ve done the same things. the ikea commercial was icing on the cake. for the record i’m not a hoarder. :)

    your story made my monday morning a little better.
    xo
    alicia
    the-champagnelife.blogspot.com

  3. Is it strange that I totally understood what you were talking about? When I traded in my car for a new one, I got really sad that I had to say goodbye to the car that I had for so many years. I’m not saying I cried, but I was pretty bummed about it for a couple of days. Even though I loved my new car. I totally get it.

  4. Bea on March 15, 2012 at said:

    For some reason all I could think of whilst reading this was a documentary I watched about people falling in love with inanimate objects. One was in love with the Berlin wall but was actually married to the Eiffel Tower (you do not want to know what she and Mr Eiffel tower got up to. And in public too!). It was alright though. Apparently you’re allowed to be polygamus when you’re with objects.
    I’m getting a little off track aren’t I? But I see where you’re coming from. I have a tendancy to name a majority of things I own. And i don’t think I’m that crazy

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