Mr Crankypants & The High Lord

I have lived with central heating for much of my life, so when I first encountered the two radiators in my apartment, I found them rather charming.

I don't use that word anymore. No, when I think of them the descriptors that come to mind are irritable and jealous. The radiators are no longer inanimate objects. They are alive. I've assigned them names: Mr. Crankypants inhabits my living room, and The High Lord of the Temple of Steam holds court in my bedroom.

Many days they perform their duties as they are supposed to, simmering merrily away like a kettle heating water for my evening cup of tea.

And then there are the other times. Mr. Crankypants owns a baseball bat, and at inopportune moments- usually when I am on the phone- energetically starts batting practice. Like a young child, he can't handle me paying attention to someone else and immediately acts up when I most need quiet.

*CLANG!*CLANG!*CLANG!*CLANG!*

The High Lord of the Temple of Steam also owns a bat, but his particular specialty is mimicking Yellowstone geyser sounds. He loves it best when I awake, startled, in the middle of the night.

WHOOOOOOOOSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I keenly look forward to spring.