From the Funny Farm

Saturday mornings are my favorite mornings. I get to sleep-in, lay around in my pajamas all day, and watch cartoons. Yesterday morning Brandon got up early, so I had the WHOLE bed to myself to stretch out and snuggle under the covers. I was just heading back to a second round of REM sleep when the following boisterous conversation woke me up with a start:

Grandpa: It won't kick on at 76.

Grandma: What's the problem?

Grandpa: What?

Grandma: I SAID, WHAT'S THE PROBLEM??

(...which was being YELLED just outside my very thin door...)

G'pa: Oh. Ah, well, I think the problem is in the thermostat.

G'ma: What?

G'pa: I THINK THE PROBLEM IS IN THE THERMOSTAT!

G'ma: What's the matter?

G'pa: It's not kicking on at 76.

G'ma: Should I call the repair guy?

G'pa: What?

G'ma: SHOULD I CALL THE REPAIR GUY?!?

G'pa: I don't want to pay some guy to fix it!

G'ma: Well, then what should we do?

G'pa: WHAT?

G'ma: THEN WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO ABOUT IT???

G'pa: I guess I'll have to call the repair guy.

Yes, I was laying in bed trying to stifle my giggles.

Grandma calls the repair guy and he shows up at 10:30. (Right in the middle of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles...) He checks the furnace in the basement, where we were watching cartoons. He seemed like a competent man, probably has been fixing furnaces for 10 years or more. We had a chit-chat about Kentucky; he has family from there, around the Richmond and Renfro Valley area. He then goes back up stairs. Grandpa proceeds to tell the repair guy that the problem is in the thermostat. The guy checks it. Grandpa's voice gets gruff and he insists that the issue is in the thermostat. The heat will kick on if it is set to 72, but not if it is set to 76. The repair guy said it takes a bit before it will kick on, but Grandpa insists. The guy calls his boss. The guy leaves, then eventually comes back. Badda-boo, badda-bing, new thermostat.

Grandpa: I don't get any pleasure in tellin' a guy how to do his job.

Yeah, right. Grandpa LOOKS for problems, finds them, then enjoys telling people how to fix them, where to go, what to do...all the while arguing and ranting and raving.

The story does not end here.

I had been out shopping during the afternoon. (Goodwill had a 50% off sale day. And I found a formal dress at Elder-Beerman's; the original price was $140, and I got it for $10.69. I should have bought a Lottery ticket yesterday, but since I don't buy'em, why start now...) I came home and the house was HOT. Hot and stuffy. Grandpa is very sensative to heat and cold. I'm not sure if it is his ailments or if he just likes to make a big deal and fuss about the tempature; I presume it's a bit of both with a heavy helping of the latter. As I unloaded my purchases, this is what I heard him to say.

G'pa: It's too hot. I'm gonna turn on the air conditioning.

I decended the stairs into the basement to find my huband on the desk top computer. Brandon said, "Did I just hear Grandpa say he is going to turn on the air conditioning??"

"Yes, that is what you heard, " I replied.

"Am I the only one who sees the irony in that? " he laughed.

I commented, "No, not the only one." We laughed and laughed. Then Brandon said,

"Welcome to the Funny Farm."