Kubota still lives at home with us. He turns twenty this month.
One of the stresses of having adult children living with us is they are not quite adults.
For one thing, he likes to fiddle with the temperature rather than put on a warmer shirt or take one off.
He gets overly warm, he opens a window. He gets too cold, he cranks up the heat. Notice that I did not say, "He closes the window and turns up the heat."
When he wants to get warm in a hurry, he cranks the set-point up to 85, convinced that the furnace will put out more BTU per hour.
The intricacies of the heating system and fuel oil budget are invisible to him.
Words bounce off. A.) He is a guy. B.) He is almost twenty.
After getting permission from the ever wise, compassionate and beautiful Mrs ERJ I turned the damper on the heating duct to Kubota's room completely off.
Kubota left for the day. I closed his room door. His window was opened an inch. The wind-chill is -1 with a 19 degree F actual.
He came home earlier than expected. Upon opening his bedroom door he said "Holy crap! It is cold enough to freeze the spheres off a snowman in here!"
"Is your window open?" I asked.
I suspect this problem will be self correcting.