It's not even summer yet, not officially anyway.
The pile of wet beach towels and trails of sticky ice pop drips say otherwise, though.
It's hot. Really freaking hot. Like, a good 10-15 degrees hotter than it should be this time of year.
You know it's bad when it's actually cooler in the desert than it is here.
And I'm whining.
In case you couldn't tell.
I'm whining mostly because when it's this hot, the kids whine. It's already too hot for them to just exist outside without endlessly complaining about how hot they are. I do the best I can to drag them out the door early in the morning and run them ragged before the ball of fire in the sky gets too offensive. Honestly, I swear I've spent half of my mothering years trying desperately to tire children out.
It works on some of them, but I have two children who easily could outlast the Energizer bunny. For reals.
I need to install a hamster wheel in the basement.
All I want is for you people to be tired enough to leave me the f%#& alone for 15 minutes in the afternoon. Is that too much to ask?
Okay, so that's not entirely true.
I want you all to leave me the f%#& alone for 15 minutes in the afternoon, and I want you to clean up after yourselves.
That's where I've just gone too far.
They might be willing to give me 11 1/2 minutes of partial silence in the afternoon, but there's no way in hell they are going to clean up after themselves.
My 7 year old routinely asks me why she has to clean. Is someone coming over???
I must be hallucinating.
Do you see that oasis over there? The tiny little island with a chaise lounge chair and a book and a drink with an umbrella in it? Do you see it? It's magnificent.
Too bad it doesn't exist. It, just like the 15 minutes of silence in the afternoon and/or having a clean house for more than 3 seconds, IS A FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION.
I'm gonna go straddle the a/c vent until this heat wave breaks.
Mommy needs a break.
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