Margret’s four-hundred-and-fifty-second most annoying habit is to stealthily turn off the central heating (then light the gas fire in the room she’s in, natch). I’ll suddenly notice that, sitting typing at the keyboard, I can see my own breath while from the bedroom one of the kids will call out, ‘Papa, I can’t feel my legs…’ And I’ll shiver down the stairs to find the central heating set to ‘Summer/Hypothermia/Cryogenic Suspension,’ and Margret in the living room watching the TV in a door frame warping furnace.
It’s not talking about me (somewhat obviously), but it’s still one of the most hilarious things on the interwebs at this point in time.
It is a little long – reading the whole thing in one go isn’t recommended. Unless you’re studying for exams. And procrastinating. :p