Asperger's vs PTSD episode 1

In the beginning...there was light. And it was on.
And it was on the porch.  At night.
It kept me from injuring myself in the dark when I walked up to the front door.
I saw that this was good.

Then my Aspie wife came along, and turned the d*mn thing out.

I kvetched mightily.
"There is clutter, wear, tear and much weariness of wood on the way to the front door," I proclaimed.
"Let the light be as a beacon to keep me from falling on my ass or stepping in the filth of many dogs who poop mightily all over the place."
And the woman was wroth, and she did spake" It's just annoying to leave a light on."
And I said "Nay, there must be a porch light. It is a safety issue."
And so there was much kvetching from the wife, who liked the dark just fine thank you very much.
And though she reluctantly agreed that the light must be left on...
There was much absentmindedness upon the person of the wife, such that she would turn the light off out of habit.

Many times did the turds cling to my shoes, and many times did I trip over things left randomly in the clutter-laden dark.
I complained, but she hardened her head and kept forgetting.
And I too hardened my head at her forgetting, for it made me most wroth.
Lo, I have removed the strike plate from over where the switches were, and have indeed concealed the switch from the eyes of men, beasts, and the aspie wife.
The switch is now in the on position and tucked carefully into the wall, with the strike plate screwed into place.

Let there be light.