Somebody nudged it to 71 at 2:14 a.m. in January. He heard the furnace start from bed, walked the hallway without a light, and had it back to 68 before the blower kicked on. Nobody confessed. The December gas bill went up on the fridge under a magnet, total circled. Every complaint since has been answered with one word: sweater. A Father's Day gift from his daughter, who has been filing appeals on this number since middle school and would like it on the record that she wore socks to bed in June. He puts it on the first cold night of the year and stands next to the thermostat with his arms folded.

THE FINE PRINT

THERMOSTAT RULE arches over DAD APPROVED in varsity block letters. Below, a round engraved thermostat with no buttons reads 68° and HOLD in blue digital segments. Under it, a torn strip of blue painter's tape says DO NOT TOUCH in black marker, signed Dad. NEGOTIATIONS CLOSED runs flat across the bottom.