Good gravy, it feels like I live in Mother Nature’s armpit right now. According to the weather channel it is 88 degrees and 79% humidity and it feels like it is 100 (and, yeah, it is 9:15pm). When the kiddo and I got home the thermostat said it was 90 degrees in my old, no AC having house. I promptly started sweating like a whore in church. The kid’s cheeks turned pink and his curls were plastered to his head.
I thought about the window AC unit down in the basement. I looked at the kid, now running helter skelter around the living room, sweating and panting. I thought about my husband, on his way to an airport in another city, not due home for hours.
I did the smart thing– I called for reinforcements. Our friends E. and N. live a few blocks away and are both kind and fans of the small sweaty person. They came over and helped get the window unit in and were content to be paid for their trouble with popsicles. Good peeps.
So now I’m on the couch, hoping the kid falls asleep, waiting for the temperature to drop below 85 in here. I’m inviting my other good friends (Ben and Jerry) over for dinner and then going to bed with an ice pack in my bra.
Please remind me of this post when I start bitching about the snow in January, okay?