When all you’ve got left are the wall plugs to remind you

September 7, 2011

By Elisa Krovblit

Ever have a moment where you realize where it all went terribly wrong?

Having a modern, loft-styled bedroom (and two small children running around) my husband and I opted for clean lines and minimal furniture in our bedroom. No night tables, ergo no night-stand for table lamps.

I’ve been driving him crazy to install wall sconces for me.

I love to read in bed and he loves to work late. Perfect combination for couples who have bedside tables with lamps for reading in bed. Not for me.

He’s resisted, saying that the wall sconces wouldn’t be strong enough for the kids to swing from. While I laughed at the visual it gave me, I was certain my little preciouses wouldn’t rip my wall sconces out of the wall.

Well, ripped wall sconces won’t be the worst part of this adventure, but they are part of this adventure. You can see it coming a mile away. Not the first day, though! That is my only victory in this game of “Does she dare to read in bed.”

The wall sconces I bought were pretty, perfect for our room. The combination of chrome and milk glass fit neatly and seamlessly into our décor. I bought two, begrudgingly. My husband would have the luxury of a wall sconce whether he wanted one or not. I wasn’t being kind, I was being true to my deep-seeded need for symmetry.

Day two arrived early when a cute little boy decided to rush in and wake me up and excitedly play with my wall sconce. Actually, ’swing’ and not ‘play’ is the most appropriate verb. And it didn’t take much, but the wall sconce came down on my pillow. A soft landing for milk glass and son.

I thought I’d outsmart everyone and rehang the wall sconces properly, towards the middle of the bed – yes a unique placement in our unique room. It was to be a spectacular save to my husband’s ‘I-told-you-so’ that was sure to come at some point.

Except, here’s where it goes bad. Upon inspection of the wall sconce, I realized that the sconce had failed me – had failed in general. Bad design – and not poor planning – was to blame. The design of the sconce had screw holes that, once attached, were covered by a plate that self-adhered into the channel, hermetically sealing in the screws. Forever inaccessible.

These disposable, single use sconces had no way to be reattached to the wall. They were a one-shot deal – and sadly, I’d missed my shot.

My husband came home. I blamed poor design and I’m sticking to my story. I hope he’ll rip out the remaining wall plugs and fix the holes soon, because even though it ISN’T technically MY fault, I’m not dumb enough to do THAT again. I shouldn’t have to live with my shame, clearly visible as I continue to use the bright overhead light to read by at night.

Filed under: DIY