Melting Away

It’s hot. Mercilessly, unbelievably hot. The streets are deserted. Lush, green lawns are a thing of the past. The ice-cream man refuses to venture out, lest he be mobbed by sweaty, feverish five-year-olds. Air conditioners struggle valiantly, pumping out muggy air in vain. And through all of this, life must go on. I must find a way…….. to finish my chores. What happened to Super Mom? Can’t she accomplish everything? Forget it. Super Mom is splayed on the kitchen floor, cooling herself on the tiles. She is ever graceful, just like a spread-eagled squirrel heat dumping itself on a rock.

The family is out in the back yard gardening, or playing in the sandbox.

I’m only exaggerating slightly when I say it’s too hot to work. Yesterday I vacuumed my bedroom and nearly passed out. If I’d tried to do the whole house, I might have died! Imagine the headlines: “Stoic Mother Killed by Dust Bunnies”. What a way to go. My kitchen is buried under piles of dishes, mounds of Cheerios, and the remnants of microwave meals. The dinner table is lost beneath artwork, crayons, and crusty shards of playdough. Miss Havisham herself would feel comfortable here. The only cool time of day is at six in the morning, and there ain’t NO WAY I’m getting up that early. Logically, I should clean when the sun goes down, but by then I’m as frazzled as a thunderstruck ferret. I’m stuck in a vicious cycle of apathy.

Like unwashed feet, a messy household is a sign of summer, along with sliding doors that are open all day. Barbecues cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We have popsicles for breakfast, as snacks, and for hydration. Any meal that requires boiling a pot of water is simply not made. And any chore that requires breaking a sweat can be put aside until winter. The oven can be used to store dirty dishes until the scraps become penicillin. Use the heat to your advantage, I say! When your bathmat starts crawling across the floor begging for death, simply hide it in the laundry hamper. In this heat, any task that requires movement is not worth the effort, unless that task involves scooping more ice cream. For that, I’ll exert myself like a long distance runner in the Sahara Desert!