Showing posts with label kids do the unfunniest things sometimes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kids do the unfunniest things sometimes. Show all posts

Thursday, November 3, 2011

IDLE HANDS

I left the house to go to the store... 15 minutes tops!
I thought it would be no problem to leave t in the shop...
because his dad, T was there too.

I told T that I was going.
He said
"No problem."

Cool beans.


I arrived home and all looked well.
A car pulled in behind me.
It was t's mom, K.
As I gathered my stuff up...
K walked past me and tapped on the shop door...
it immediately began its lift up and in.


K had a smoke in her hand...
the reason she did not enter through the house.
My first thought was 
"Where's Roxy?"
because there was nothing to keep her from escaping
thru the magic wall that goes up and down.
I hopped out to block her exit path.

T was still out back,
so t must have pushed the button
that operates the door.
But...
He is only 8 and can't reach the buttons on the wall in the shop.
I'm 56 and I have to stand on tip toe.
I looked around.
Sure enough, I had left the remote on my table.
Ok.  
No harm done.

K borrows a couple of potatoes from me
and she and t leave for home.
T tells me that the weirdest thing happened...
that the magic wall had risen on its own
and stopped about a foot and a half off the floor.
He said he freaked out until he found Roxy in the house, sleeping.
Roxy had missed her golden opportunity to flee.

I decided not to mention my remote.
t is a good kid and a kid does kid things.

T goes back to work on the patio.
I sit down to watch the TV and hear a hum.
Odd.
I look around and see the surround sound remote laying on
the man's table saw.
Weird.
We keep it in a roll top shelf with the surround sound.
I open the shelf roll and sure...
the machine is on, empty.
The dials are all turned funny.
t must have tried to turn it on manually before using the remote.
I click it off and put the remote back
before rolling its cover down.
The man will have to readjust the buttons.

When I click my remote for the TV
I Carly laughs at me.
I don't watch that show.
But whatever, 
t is a kid and its a kid show.

T finishes his project and says good night.
I am alone in the shop now.
I like to be out here away from the sleeping man...
where I can make as much noise as I want.

*   *  *  *
It gets cold out here this time of year.
So yesterday morning the man surprised me with a new heater.
Because it is a wood shop,
we needed to buy a heater that would not combust sawdust,
and is cool to the touch.

This heater is special in that it has a closed system
for the elements that heat.
However it has a filter and does suck in air.
For that reason we have a nice thick cover for it when
the dust making machines in here are running.
We have to wait until the dust settles to run it again.
No clogged filter!

The heater came with a programmable remote.
(Oooh... foreshadowing!)
It is a smart heater that can be
 turned on or off in a variety of ways.
I dislike special functions...
I like "OFF" and "ON".
Or
"UP" and "DOWN".
That way I know its off or on because I did it then and there.
No relying on the machine to get it right.


Not in a wood shop.
We fear fire here.

I walked the man to his truck...
my end of the night ritual begins this way.
He says
"Please be sure you turn that heater off before you go to bed...
and wait until the fan stops to be sure its off."
I promise.
I watch him back out of the driveway and wave.
I wait until I can't see the lights anymore, then go inside.

I follow my ritual and make sure all is locked up tight.
Roxy says she does not want to listen to music.
I leave her to guard her dog bed...
and enjoy a CD in the shop.
When it is almost over, 
I turn off the heater.
The music ends and the fan turns off...
I trundle off to bed.

Morning arrives.
Before I prepare the man's diner...
I open the shop door to turn on the heater
so that it can warm things up a bit
while I cook.

My kitchen is fairly cool...
maybe 58*
The shop is 75*
???
There sits the heater doing some cooking of its own.
This is a very bad thing.

I freak out.
I push the off button.
I get thoughts;
What if I had put the cover on it when I was sure it was off?
Fire!
How much electricity had I wasted?
Is not telling the man something a lie of omission in this instance?
How had I possibly not turned it off when I pushed the off 
button and waited for the fan to stop?
I know I turned it off.

While I sat and questioned my sanity...
I turned on The Sopranos and sipped my coffee.
When the second episode came on...
so did the heater!

Was it demon possessed?
YIKES!

I hit the off button again.
I get the manual and begin to read
in the trouble shooting section.
A much saner answer awaited me there.

I followed the directions and punched buttons on the remote...
to the set timer function.
Busy little t had programed it to 
automatically turn on 30 minutes after being shut off.
I fix the problem.


I tell you what...
tonight when I go to bed...

I'll unplug the thing.
And the next time I see little t...
we will have a serious talk
about what could have happened.