I recently did something that I’d been threatening to do for years. I put a lockbox over the home thermostat, so my son couldn’t adjust it without my permission.
The reason was simple: I was tired of spending all my disposable income on heating or air conditioning my house.
My son would come out of his bedroom shirtless and almost naked in the middle of the night, and crank up the heat so the furnace was working overtime to warm up rooms that we never even use. He’d do this even though he has a space heater in his room that is perfectly capable of keeping it toasty.
“Mom, it’s cold,” he’d say to me, when I came out of my room and glared at him as he leaned over the thermostat, turning it up to the approximate temperature of raging hellfire.
This was not acceptable to me. “Put on some bleeping clothes,” I tell him. “Of course you’re cold. You’re not even wearing anything.”
The reason this is crazy is that, back when he was in high school, he would insist on wearing shorts and flip-flops on the most frigid days of the year. “Put on a coat!” I’d yell to him, as he began walking to school, ignoring me. “Wear warm shoes!”
Now that he’s older, he likes it sweaty hot in the winter and freezing cold in the summer.
After 1,387 false promises from him to be more temperate with the temperature, I got tired of opening my utility bills and screaming bloody murder.
So, I got the little transparent plastic box and had my handyman install it over the thermostat. I know you’ve seen one, especially at work, right?
It didn’t come with any directions, so it took me awhile to figure out how to use the combination lock. Hint: An engineering degree would help.
Unfortunately, my son is smarter than I am, and somehow he also figured out how to use the lock to open the box. To be honest, this is the story of my life. I try to regulate something — anything — in my house, and the son figures out how to thwart my efforts. (He’s clever that way.)
I know there’s a way to change the combination, but that might require an advanced degree. Actually, I need my brother to come and visit, because he’s an electrical engineer and he can pretty much fix anything.
I should probably send him over to my friend’s house, because her husband put a lockbox on the thermostat to keep her from adjusting it. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a divorce waiting to happen. He never gets cold, and doesn’t care that she is always shivering. Honestly, I think he deserves to be beaned in the head for that one.
If my imaginary husband ever did that to me, I’d get a tire iron and beat that lockbox and thermostat until they fell off the wall.
Hmm. Do you think that’s why I’m not married?
Meanwhile, I walk around the house turning off lights all day long. I know, that’s not interesting. You probably do the same.
Sometimes I’ll walk into my son’s room after he’s gone to work, and discover he left on his space heater, bedside lamp and television. I go around carefully and unplug every electrical appliance in the room, then I remove the heater entirely.
When he gets home from work after a hard day delivering packages, he’s always irked by this. But it doesn’t occur to him that he has control over the situation. All he has to do is turn everything off before he leaves, and I won’t unplug it.
For reasons that mystify me, this seems virtually impossible for him to do.
I suspect there are probably devices that will turn off the lights and appliances after a specified amount of time.
Like those ones that make me grind my teeth in ladies’ restrooms, where you walk in, the light turns itself on, and just as you occupy your throne, the light turns off. And you’re sitting there in the utter blackness, wondering where you are.
But that’s never happened to you, right?
If you have anything you want to say to me, feel free to email me at mfisher@scng.com.
I especially love it when you point out my typos and mistakes, and let’s not forget those diet tips.
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