Yesterday was an exceptionally hot day as demonstrated by my post whining about the warm temperatures of the pool water. Little did I know that by the end of the day that water would seem frigid compared to the temperature INSIDE my house.
Curiously, late in the afternoon, when everyone had come inside for the day, I noticed that the children were unusually grumpy and that their hair was matted with sweat. I, too, was warm and uncomfortable, but it did not give me pause as my body temperature has not been regulated since the year Milli Vanilli got busted for lip-synching.
Because you can't pull a fast one on me, I finally put two and two together - I'm quick like that- and glanced at the display of our thermostat: 84.
Seriously, 84. A mere 15 degrees away from a fever.
Frantic calls to the air condition guy revealed that service would not be forthcoming until the following morning which meant we were stuck in our humble sauna for the night. We would awaken the next morning pounds lighter.
(It's a little weight loss plan I like to call "Ignore your thermostat and the high-pitched whirring sounds coming from your basement and watch the fat melt away.")
Nick, the kind repair man, arrived joyfully on time the next day (praise Jesus)with toolbox and billing sheet in hand. He was so young and fresh-faced looking it was all I could do to keep from tying his shoes, or from holding a tissue up to his nose with instructions to blow.
The news was not good. Our unit, which was probably installed the same year as the demise of Milli Vanilli, will have to be replaced, and regrettably, not until a very long time away - tomorrow.
So, tonight we will sleep in our pool.