“That shit ain’t gonna burn. You can’t use that kind of wood in the fireplace, it’s too sappy, don’t ya know that?”
I was sitting on the hearth feeding the fire, while he stood behind me, speaking over my shoulder. “Actually that’s a fallacy,” I said.
“A falla who?”
“It’s often said that pine and sappy trees can start a chimney fire that’s true. But it’s a fallacy, an old wives tale. This wood is perfectly fine for this fireplace. Next you’re going to say is that the chimney will be full of creosote.”
“I wouldn’t say nothin of the sort. Crea what? And whose old wife? I can’t understand you. Why do you talk like that? Speak English!” He was genuinely frustrated.
“I’m speaking with the utmost clarity. What are you not digesting?” I kept feeding the fire which had built to a roar. “What are you not comprehending?” I was too was getting frustrated and stood up and backed away from the heat, my face in a sweat.
“You can’t put that kind of wood in the fireplace,” he insisted, pointing at my blazing creation. “And you talk like you’re from another planet.”