It’s all HIS fault…isn’t it?

As most of you know, Greg is away hunting. For 16 days. Baylee and I had been doing just fine on our own until it got a bit chilly in Georgia. Being the penny pincher that I am, I decided to forgo turning on the heat Saturday night, opting just to throw another blanket on the bed. Though Baylee was shivering on the bed next to me as I lay down to sleep, I though to myself, “she has fur, she’ll be fine. Besides, how much cooler can it get?” Well, I’ll tell you – it got down to 58 degrees in the house. That was a fine temp for staying under the covers, but made for a brisk dash in and out of the shower.

Sunday, I caved and turned on the heat before I went to bed. It wasn’t until I woke up that I realized that it never came on. I met Monday morning with another 58 degree reading on the thermostat. Uh, Greg? Help! Something is wrong with the furnace!

After a strategy call to Greg, he assured me that all I had to do was reset the furnace when I got home that day, and that is was very simple. Simple, that is, if you’re not tired, famished, cold, and faced with having to get down on all fours with a huge belly in front of the furnace to reset the contraption (note: my belly can be considered huge when it’s convenient for me). I took a quick stab at flipping the reset switch. When several minutes went by and nothing happened, I did the logical thing: burst into tears. Why? Because how could Greg leave me for 16 days without first considering that it might get cold and I might need to turn on the furnace? I am growing a baby and need to be as comfortable as possible! The nerve! This is all his fault!

I trudged up the stairs from the basement angry, cold and hungry, and in dire need of satisfying one of those predicaments, stat. After throwing on another layer, I opted to eat. I warmed up some soup, threw a grilled cheese in the pan, and then my phone rang. Uh-oh. Not a good time for baby daddy to call. While choking back tears, I alerted him that I was frustrated about the furnace, starving, and could not speak to him until after I ate and would call him back. At this point, Greg has witnessed a few hormonal outbursts, so wisely agreed this was a good idea.

After filling my belly, I realized my anger at Greg was completely irrational. Hey, he did send me a beautiful arrangment of flowers last week, "just because." So, hormones aside, I felt renewed and ready to tackle the furnace. Greg talked me through the steps again and I realized my error…not replacing the panel cover. Oops. I left it off in case I needed to go through the steps again. How was I supposed to know the furnace was equipped with this safety feature that prohibited operation without the cover? The nerve of those furnace people! Special thanks to them for printing the reset instructions with the writing perpendicular to the floor and so low to the floor that I had to get in downward dog to read them. It’s totally all their fault! Isn’t it???