It’s a cruel, cruel summer when it’s too hot to play outside. As I scrambled around town today running errands, which I’ll complain about in a moment, I almost cried when I read the thermometer in my car….the temperature had reached 100 degrees. With the humidity, the heat index was hovering around 110. Ick. Unfortunately when you live in the northeast people don’t like to hear complaints about the heat. Seriously, as soon as you grumble about the river of perspiration rolling down your back some wise soul will say: “It could be worse. Just remember this when it’s twenty degrees and snowing outside.” Pssst….I’d rather twelve inches of snow on my driveway than having a forehead so hot I could fry an egg on top of it. When it’s frigid outside you can throw on a great pair of jeans, a cute coat and a pretty scarf and look chic. Not so pretty when it’s ninety-nine degrees and your face looks like a cherry tomato that should have been plucked from the vine a week ago.
Now if you are one of the few fortunate individuals that actually holds up well during a heat wave, I offer my congratulations and my sincerest hope that I don’t cross paths with you this week. I’ll be the one with the out of control hair, holding a coolatta in each hand — avoid me at all costs (unless you have a sno cone you want to share with me).
Those errands I mentioned? Hmmm….apparently I’m not going to be nominated for Cub Scout Mother of the Year. Since my boys have never done any type of camp, I didn’t realize that their pediatrician needed to fill out reams of paperwork in order for them to go on a three day camping trip with their dad and their local troop. My bad. I ran from one doctor’s office to the other (hubby needs a consent form, as well), one store to the next (had to find battery operated fans, flashlights, rain ponchos, etc) and after three hours I was ready to crash and burn (pun intended so please laugh now). Just when I thought it was safe to go home, I realized I still needed to buy new dress shoes for my boys. We have a funeral mass to attend on Saturday and the shoes I purchased for them in May no longer fit. I’m not even thinking about what I’ll wear because the thought of dragging on stockings is enough to give me heat stroke right now. It could be worse, right? Please say yes…..