Honey, I Killed the Canary.
SFG and I are having a Raymond moment at the moment.
SFG has been burning coal in our fireplace. Coal. Real chunks of real coal. Not charcoal briquettes, though that would be kind of weird, but coal that his father gave him. SFG's dad is an oncologist, so I am assuming that he has thoroughly thought out this coal = cancer? thing. But coal? in the wood-burning fireplace?
I am terrified of the coal. It just doesn't sound or smell like a good idea, this coal in the fireplace thing. Whenever SFG burns the coal (which, incidentally, goes PooF! when you light it), I think I'm getting lightheaded and have to open the windows, which kind of defeats the purpose of the toasty fire in the first place, but safety first!
Is anyone with me on this? Or am I the lone coalphobe out here?
A person I'm not particularly fond of told me I had 'the Lisa Loeb thing going on' with my new glasses. I'm not sure how to take this.