Cathy in the Wright

I (heart) My Air Conditioner

The Muses, they have abandonded The Outpost. Inspiration is at low ebb these days. I blame the hot, humid weather. This weather is good for nothing more than climbing into the cab of your pick-up, rolling down the windows, turning up the volume on the country radio station, and driving to no particular place for no particular reason. An ice cold St. Pauli Girl (in foam can cooler as to prevent wet spot on the insides of your shorts) would complete the scene, but being illegal, it is not an officially endorsed part of the picture. Although if I got a jury trial out of it, there is not one peer for miles that would convict me.

The weather is affecting everyone strangely. The Governor has turned into Surfer Dude. "Mom, you are going to be soooooo busted when Dad gets home." That warning came after he got sent to bed last night without dinner. (Yes, Grandma, he deserved it. No, he didn't perish overnight.) He has also taken to calling me "Dude" when he's in a good mood. I don't mind it, but I kind of miss the phase where he was calling me "Sir" and saluting every time I told him to do something.

The Senator has taken to begging for a pool. Not a strange request in such hot weather, but a bit irritating seeing as we just spent thousands of dollars for 60 feet of lakeshore. I keep telling him, "Pool or pond. Pond would be good for you," but he's not a big Chevy Chase fan.

Right now they're both whining and crabbing about nothing important. If they're going to be this miserable anyway, I might as well send them out to weed the flower beds. Then they can wail and grind their teeth with some justification.

I'm off to look for a cold soda.

Posted by Cathy at July 14, 2005 09:59 AM