A couple of mornings ago I turned on the thermostat, heard the little click that always sounds but the heater didn't start. I didn't think that much about it because it wasn't really all that cold and I just figured the pilot light had blown out. Since The Husband was home I figured I'd let him relight it. He was sleeping at the time and I didn't want to make a bunch of noise and risk being called a "Clanker". This is what The Husband calls me when I'm up clanking around making noise in the morning thus depriving him of his required eight or nine hours of beauty sleep each night.
After he got up, The Husband checked and the pilot light was still on so he decided that there must be a problem with the thermostat. "It has to be the thermostat because the pilot light is still on" The Husband tells me in his most know it all voice. I don't really care...I just want to be able to get warm when I want to...but I smile and nod to acknowledge his wisdom.
Since he loooooves Home Depot, it gave him a perfect excuse to be Mr. Fixit and wander around the do-it-yourselfer store for a couple of hours. I actually like Home Depot and can waste a lot of time myself wandering around looking at stuff I don't need. If I had my druthers, I'd pick a smaller hardware store but there aren't many of them left. To me, a good hardware store is one of life's simple pleasures.
To make a long story short, The Husband got the thermostat installed and still...the heater wouldn't come on. So now we know that it isn't the thermostat. This happened once before and I reminded the man of my dreams that the repairman who fixed it replaced some little part that ignited the burner. The Husband said "Oh yeah"...I don't know if he really heard what I said or was just giving me the usual "yeah, yeah, yeah".
He was reading the thermostat directions at the time trying to decide if the problem could still be solved without calling a repairman.
Yesterday while I was making soup, The Husband started taking the heater apart. Trying very hard not to sound like a doubting Thomas I asked "Do you know what you're doing?"
"No...but I might as well try to fix it instead of buying a new one" was the semi-testy reply.
He decided, after reading the heater manual, that he would order parts and try to fix it himself. The Husband knows nothing, I mean nothing, about any type of appliance repair.
It's now been three days. The temperature outside is about twenty-five degrees, and I'm sitting at my computer with a space heater aimed at my chair. All three cats are laying on the floor in front of the heater, dogs are huddled in their beds, and the heater is in pieces.
I only wrote this to point out that PP's (Penis Possessors) feel compelled to do this kind of shit when it would be easier, quicker, and probably more economical in the long run, to call a repairman to fix the problem. It's the stoopidist thing.