The Twinkies

I really blame the drugs. After all, he was on a lot of pain medication and wasn’t really thinking straight when he told his parents to not bother installing the air conditioners when they were here to help us after his surgery. I’ve never been able to move them and he certainly can’t pick them up right now so we do need help getting them in. Somewhere in his drug addled state it seemed to make perfect sense to say we didn’t need them until his parents came back in June. Or July.

We live in Connecticut. Sometime after mid-May and well before July it becomes unbearably hot and humid. Like now. It was over 90 yesterday. It will be over 90 today. And heat makes me ill. Literally, physically sick. I get queasy. I get headaches. I can’t eat and then my blood sugar drops. It isn’t good.

I’ve spent the past week telling Brian that a bigger person wouldn’t say “I told you so” but that I was not burdened with that particular scruple.

So Nick and Max came over yesterday in response to pleas for help and installed the air conditioners and put together the patio table so that one could sit outside under an umbrella and have a place to set one’s drink. As they were putting in the final behemoth unit that handles cooling downstairs Nick turned to me and said, “So…I just want to know, is this going to make the blog?”

If you are the sort of person who wants to go to an animated French film about the Islamic Revolution in Iran I would have thought you would be savvy enough to know that said movie is not appropriate for an 8-year-old. Alas, I would have been wrong.

I’m 35 today.

• The recently reopened and totally renovated local library, only a few blocks away, requires one parent or caregiver per child for Toddler Time. That’s right. If you had the gall to have more than one child you are just out of luck unless you can afford to hire a mother’s helper to come to the library with you. (This is only for the organized Toddler Time. I can, of course, bring the kids to the library. Just not to the activity.)
• On a message board if you see a post labeled “graphic: may be disturbing” and you open it you will get no sympathy from me if you promptly complain that it is graphic and disturbing.
• If you use up the last of the aluminum foil and don’t mention it to the person who does the grocery shopping that person won’t know to get any more and will be out of luck when it comes to heating his or her dinner.