Please, Mr. Heater Man, come and turn it on again!

The air grew cold on Thursday night,
So Friday, when I rose,
My fingertips wore icicles,
And frost was on my nose.

The heater blasted out cold air.
I shivered in the chill
And knew I'd have to call for help,
No matter what the bill.

I called the AC/heater man,
And he arrived by ten.
He needed parts he didn't have,
So left and came again.

At two he came the second time
And climbed the attic stairs.
He tried this thing and then tried that
And maybe whispered prayers.

It seemed that nothing he tried worked.
The pilot light ignited
But cut itself back off again
Before the furnace lighted.

He called this job "the devil" but
Would not accept defeat.
He fiddled with a grounding wire
And finally got some heat.

He finished at four-thirty and,
As I was pleased to see,
He ate the hours he'd wasted
And did not charge them to me.

I settled on the sofa as
Warm air began to blow.
I felt all comfy, cozy,
Because then I didn't know

That four short hours later
It would all begin anew:
The heater fan was on full force,
But only cold air blew.

I'd wasted all day Friday with
The heater service man
And so decided not to have
Him come right out again.

Instead, I'd tough it out, I thought,
And get some errands run
And call him first thing Monday
After all my chores were done.

So extra blankets kept me warm
When weekend nights grew cold,
But frosty mornings let me know
My bones are getting old.

I turned the bathroom heater on,
The oven, then the dryer,
To try to raise the temperature
At least a little higher,

And here I stand on Sunday morn,
Ashamed of what I'm wearing,
But if you ever get this cold,
You'll thank me, then, for sharing.