COLDFINGER

I have a friend of Scottish descent who lives up to the stereotypical image of the cheap Scotsman.   His ancestors would be more than proud of him.  I remind him that I was actually born in Scotland and while I love a bargain as much as the next person, I do not even come close to being as tight with my money as he.  He is a great source of entertainment for me.  I once saw him drop a couple of hotdogs off a barbeque and onto the grass at a public park.  The same grass that kids had just been running all over and  dogs had been squatting on to do their business.  I nudged the person next to me and bet that he would put them back on the barbeque.   He did.
It is a well known fact for those who have ever had an invite to his home, that a sweater and slippers are a must if you are to experience any level of comfort.  When he and his wife first moved into their new home, Ian and I were invited for dinner.  I took my slippers and wore an extra heavy sweater (it was winter).  Ian mocked but I didn't care, I knew what was coming.  Upon arrival at the house, our friend took us on the grand tour.  We found the main floor chilly but when we descended down into the basement, we could literally see our breath.  In one corner of the basement  sat a beautiful wood stove, lonely and forlorn just begging to be lit.  Sorry little wood stove, that would cost money not just in wood we were told, but if the rec room was to be warm, then his son's friends would come over to hang out and if his son's friends were there, chances were good that they would eat his food.  There was to be no heat in the basement.
Last week his wife held a baby shower in Kere's honour but I was not forgotten. There was a special note just for me left above the thermostat control.

He knew I would be the only one brave enough to actually touch the thermostat. My plan was to crank up the heat just as I was leaving but he made it home before I could do so.  That my friends is why I am able to blog about it tonight with all ten of my fingers intact.  As an aside... my mocking husband now brings slippers and wears sweaters to their home. They wear T-shirts to ours.