I don’t like turning my heater on. I don’t like the smell of it or the way it dries out my skin and makes my hair a ‘static afro.’ I usually tell the kids to wear socks and put on a sweat shirt in the house. But yesterday, when I got up, the temperature was 66 degrees upstairs. I don’t know about you, but that’s darn cold here in the valley of the sun. I know I have friends that are buried under mountains of snow and my son is experiencing the negative side of the thermometer in Alaska, but I am freezing. I tried the extra socks (Doc Who pictures) and the flannel shirt, but I’m still cold. What is a girl to do?

I have a really nice gas fireplace that holds my TV, gives the grandson a place to stack his toys and bang his head. I decided to turn it on yesterday, on a whim, as I was shivering through an episode of Studio C. The darn thing would not work. I could see the little sparky things in the faux wood, but it didn’t go anywhere. I don’t know about you, but I’m a bit terrified of natural gas. Maybe it’s because it is invisible, smells like a skunk, and can blow your house up like a silent ninja, or maybe it’s because….yeah, that’s why. I tried flicking the switch a few times and tried to spy something I could kick, but nothing happened. My ‘brilliant’ daughter had the idea to call the number on the bright green tag behind the metal thingy at the bottom. (Smarty pants) I called and listened to some really nice directions in Spanish for about ten minutes before an English speaking person came on the line. Apparently, the people at the gas company are also terrified of natural gas because she really wanted to send a ‘licensed professional’ out to help me start the fireplace. I groaned. She was offering help, but all I was hearing was “someone else is going to try and rob your blind for being an idiot.” She must have heard the VERY SUBTLE frustration in my voice because she changed her tone and told me in a hushed voice that when she had a ‘licensed professional’ out to help her with her fireplace, he just turned it off and on about 35 time and it finally caught. Since I can count to 35, I decided to give it a try. Wouldn’t you know, I flicked the switch and it started right up.

The lesson to be learned here is that magic can happen when you give up. Just having that person on the phone sent the magic to my house that mystically fixed the issue with my fireplace. That is the only explanation I can think of. I am quite certain that had I not called when I did, the next time I tried to flick the switch I would have been blown to bits along with my loved ones and the forty piles of laundry in my hall way. Although I wouldn’t have missed the laundry, I would have missed the loved one. So, learn from my experience. If you can’t fix it, just call the magic hotline and it will be fixed. Except, of course, a relationship. THOSE magic hotlines actually do the opposite and your relationship will explode in your face and no one will love you. Cause I said so.

photo credit: http://www.watershed.co.uk