The one where you all hate me

No, haven’t run into Bono yet…

…yet…

No, this is where I complain about our cool summer while all my friends are posting on Facebook on how they’re melting into puddles of human goo.

My Facebook page looks like a weather report.  I know how hot it is where, at what time, and even know the temperatures of pools.  I read this while drinking a mug of hot tea and wearing a sweater because it’s 53 degrees and raining here.  I even broke down and turned on the heat for an hour to take the chill off the house when I saw three out of four of my kids swaddled in blankets on the couch.  The fourth child is his father’s son – he’s mad because I won’t let him open his bedroom window right now.  Okay, he’s not mad.  But he doesn’t understand why I won’t let him open the window.  This is the kid who wanted to know why he needed a coat on one morning….I had to point out that it was January, snowing, and 32 degrees out.  He’s weird like that.

Mind you – I’d rather this than 100+ temperatures.  I lived in The South for five years.  I survived the hottest summer ever while pregnant without murdering someone.  Even though I really wanted to.  No…I don’t do heat well.  If I had to choose between the two, I’d pick the rainy 53 degree weather over 100+ hellish boiling point.

That said – I would like a nice warm day.  82 degrees.  Sunny.  That would be nice.  That’s also a heat wave in these parts.  Next week it might hit 71, that’ll have to do.

Meanwhile, I’ve spent half the afternoon gathering up the courage to take Maura to pick up her new glasses.  She won’t mind the rain, little duck that she is.  But sometimes, handing Maura an umbrella is putting your life at risk.

Okay, time to stop being a whinging American and suck it up and go out into the weather to do what needs to be done like any other Dubliner.  That and Miriam’s watching “Puppy in my Pocket”, a cartoon designed to make an adult lose all hope in life, it’s that insipid.  Yes, time to leave the house.  And if I get chilled, I’ll remember how much I loathe hot temperatures.

Interesting…spell check allows whinging but doesn’t recognize Dubliner…hmm…

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