Note from my Dad.

I love itsgrandpaswork, as do the little shoe-dwellers.

We weren’t trying to poison him, or itsgrandmaswork, honest!

“Two months ago, we had the lounge gas fire serviced, though we don’t use it that much. Today, the gas engineer made a return visit to try to track down the smell the fire was emitting when hot, which was also causing us serious headaches. Inside the case, he found a congealed mess of plastic, the remnants of ‘a foreign body’ as he styled it in his report. Somebody’s naughty little fingers had obviously poked a Lego brick or a felt-tipped pen or a play man through the convector aperture at the top of the front. (And why not, considering we offer the little dears toys which involve putting shapes into holes and we say ‘well done’ when they get it right!) As the heat of the fire built up, the plastic began to melt and to boil off some of its component compounds. Hence the smell and the bad headaches…..

I guess there’s a moral to this little story, though I can’t for the life of me think what it is.”

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