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A Sad Tale of the Fictional Broken Furnace

A completely fictional Salt Lake City family woke up one morning, and it was terribly cold. Not just “someone left the furnace-powered heater off” cold; this was “one of the kids snuck out at midnight and left their window open and somehow the other windows ended up broken and they left the garage door open, too, for good measure” cold. 


The mother of this fictional family immediately blamed the father, assuming the cold was caused by a theft of sheets in the middle of the night, to which the father pleaded innocent, as the incident happened while he was fast asleep.  The mother then decided she was just cold because it was winter, and maybe some more snow had fallen, and there wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary about the bedside water glass frosting over in the night. She bundled up in a robe and slippers and went to take her shower.


The shriek that followed sent the father of this fictional family bolting up from his fictional bed to go and fight whatever monsters his wife had found in their recently remodeled bathtub. The shock of cold air hit his adrenaline like a bowling ball, and he and his shivering self  only made it safely to the bathroom with the help of a blanket bundled around his fictional frame. The mother was standing on the edge of the bathroom mat, shivering and wrapped in a towel that was growing icicles. “Something’s wrong,”  she decided, and her breath came out as fog. The fictional father nodded, and, as it usually did when things went wrong, his mind went straight to the children.


There were three children in this fictional family, because that’s about how many children the average Salt Lake City home has, and less than half a child (since the statistics maintain that it’s really 2.33 children) can’t get out of a bed, shivering, and demand to know what’s going on and why they can’t feel their toes. 


The oldest child, a boy, was too manly to say he was cold. He stood there in his pajamas, crossed his arms, and said through chattering teeth, “I can’t even feel it!”  He was twelve, and tough talk is a middle schooler’s greatest tool  to protect themselves. Tough talk doesn’t do much against the elements of nature, though. Nevertheless, this oldest fictional child decided to stick to his usual tactics. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t feel his nose and his glasses had fogged-up almost beyond repair; he was tough.


The middle child was a girl, and she had figured it out. “Something’s broken,” she announced to the family at large as they all gathered miserably in the living room that had somehow turned into a winter wonderland. Half of the pipes were frozen or burst, and somehow there was frost covering all the poor house plants, who probably wouldn’t make it out of this ordeal intact.  The middle child was smart. She had almost won an elementary school science competition that semester – and would have for sure, if it hadn’t been for her arch-nemesis, Julia.


The youngest child was a toddler, and she pretty much just cried. She was the one who discovered that the floors had iced over, but whether this was intentional or an accident was difficult to ascertain with the language barrier between Toddler and Older People. She went skidding across the floor, wailing and holding her baby blanket tight, and the other children realized this was probably why their toes were turning blue.


“This is ridiculous,”  the fictional father said in this fictional situation, staring at a house filled with ice and a shivering family with icicles in their hair.


And it was. It was ridiculous. Because the moment this fictional Salt Lake City family felt an unnatural chill in the air and determined that all the windows were closed/unbroken, they should have immediately looked at their furnace to see if it was broken. Of course, in this fictional scenario – and in dangerously-cold (though probably not to this fictional extent) Utah homes every winter – it was.


At that point, the middle child would suggest a home remedy that would likely involve duct tape and a fair amount of luck. The mother would veto this option, and wisely so, because furnaces are not for the faint of heart. The fictional father would sigh and say that they would just have to tough it out until the snow thawed and they could get a furnace repair service, but the mother would refuse to accept this. “There has to be someone,”  she would insist.


And she would be right. All Utah Plumbing, Heating, and Air provides emergency furnace repair for broken furnaces in the Salt Lake City area. With licensed professionals and a history of helping actual, nonfiction families who feel like they’re frozen and all out of options, All Utah Plumbing is prepared to solve even the most fantastical of unfortunate situations. Give us a call today to solve your broken furnace needs.