At midnightish, as usual, 3 sneezes and a whimper had me stumbling out of bed, cradling Oscar in my arms. I had not been covered, I was a little too warm. When I entered the sitting room that houses the infamous wood stove, it was stifling hot! I took the dog out and returned to check the thermostat. 90 DEGREES!!! I grabbed my phone to get a picture for proof. Took only 7 tries to get one, as I had not bothered to turn the light on.
He Who stuffs the wood into the stove every night always accuses me of exaggerating. So I wanted proof. I was trying to fiddle with the damper and such, but the stove was so hot I was burning my fingers. I looked at the thermostat again as I went to wake the man who stuffed the stove full of wood. 91 degrees!! The temperature was rising!!
I cannot sleep when it is that hot. I wanted to open the windows, but He Who tends to whine about being cold had a small fit. I did not have a restful sleep. It did cool down eventually, but I felt like I had just dozed off when the cellphone of He Who plays with ring tones went off. Just guess what the ring tone was? Barking dogs.
He Who is in the dog house.
3 comments:
I know what you are talking about. I opened the window on the 68 degree day for a few minutes to let the cat look out. Mister said, "Turn off the furnace when you have the windows open. It was set at 70 degrees. WTH?! And barking dogs? I'd kick him.
Wow! I'd be barkin' mad! If I still had saliva left after panting.
OY! You should make him sleep right next to the wood stove if he wants it that hot.
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