I don’t like hot weather.
We are approaching summer with each passing week. Now don’t get me wrong, there are some things about summer that I enjoy. There is an increase in places to get ice cream, for one. Also, many women decide to put cleavage on display that would have been hidden in winter. Sorry if that offends anyone. I do try to be very respectful of women, especially since I have two daughters, but damn it I’m still allowed to like boobs!
I digress. My primary issue is that summer means hotter weather, and I don’t do well with heat. I never have. I get hot very easily and very quickly. I think I may have some walrus or polar bear DNA somewhere in me. So as we get closer into the summer months, I become increasingly sweaty and disgusting. Throw in the humidity that comes with living in New England and I’m basically Soggy Man. You know who wants to hang out with Soggy Man? No one!
Yeah, the ridiculously cold dead of winter is pretty bad itself. My favorite time of year is actually fall. But the thing is I can always throw more layers on or more blankets. I can only get so naked in the summer until it eventually stops helping. And I can’t really do that in public, since Soggy Man is only trumped by Naked Soggy Man.
This is why if given a choice, I spend many summer days inside with air-conditioning cranked up as much as I can. It is glorious. I feel rejuvenated. My toddler watches FROZEN and I keep thinking how much I want ice powers. Man, that would be awesome.
The problem is that I can’t realistically stay in my cool cocoon. I have to make sure the AC is cranked so high that the electric bill is higher than my mortgage. Also, Phoebe likes to play outside. I would be a very bad daddy if I kept her inside because I don’t like being sweaty. So I understand that there will be a lot of days where I’m watching Phoebe run around the yard, wishing for an arctic exosuit.
Sweet, sweet air-conditioning. I will enjoy our time together as much as I can.