Dead-finger of Karma

The other day I mentioned that hubby has been bringing me sour gummy worms, even though I’ve asked him repeatedly to stop bringing me food gifts.  Gummy worms for me are like crack for a ho, I can’t resist their sweet/sour, squishy goodness.  He knows this, but he brings them to me anyway usually with some bullshit reason like he’s searching for the best-tasting brand.  I almost lost my mind when he brought me four packages at once the other day, but I should have known to leave it in the hands of the universe and things would even out.

See, this winter I’ve been the heat-miser.  We live in the back of beyond and city gas isn’t available to us, so our gas appliances run on propane.  Propane costs roughly the same as gold when you have a 500-gallon tank.  We have a perfectly good wood stove and an assload of wood to burn, so I’ve been leaving the furnace in the “off” position as often as possible in order to conserve propane.

Usually this works out pretty well because we have ceiling fans in the bedrooms (don’t tell TLC – I’ll have rabid decorators up my ass in no time!) and it circulates the heat pretty well.  It doesn’t work when you have the doors closed, though, which is what we’ve had to do since the addition of the pint-sized dynamo ninja-pee-er.  When the doors are closed the heat doesn’t circulate.  

When the heat doesn’t circulate we get a lot of condensation on the windows because our master bathroom is attached to the bedroom and the shower puts a lot of moisture in the air.  Condensation on the windows doesn’t bother me, so I didn’t really think anything of it.

Except that our heater vents are in the ceiling.  Condensation has been gathering in the heating ducts because the heat hasn’t been blowing through there to dry it out.  We discovered this when hubby had a dream that a bird shit on his forehead, woke up to wipe his forehead off and discovered that it really was wet.  See, the heater vent is over his side of the bed.  The condensation was dripping on his head and he has been getting waterboarded in his sleep!  

Now that by itself is pretty goddamn funny from my side of the bed, but that’s not the end of the story. Hubby has been a little lax about winterizing the house because it’s been so unseasonably warm here, so he didn’t close the attic vents.  The other day it got really cold in the morning and things froze.  Including the condensation in the heater vent.  I had thoughtfully set the heater to come on in the morning so the house would warm up before we got out of bed, and like a good heater it came on exactly when it was supposed to.  And it blew frozen condensation pellets out of the heater vent at a high rate of speed, pelting hubby in the face with icy hail in the privacy of his own warm and cozy bed at the butt-crack of dawn.

And that, my friends, is the dead-finger of karma!