I’m feeling hot, hot, hot

We took the kids camping this week. Kind of. Our HVAC* fan’s motor died yesterday. RIP. And our house reached scorching temps of 85 and 86 degrees because it’s 100 degrees outside in October (clearly, Satan doesn’t want the bugs to die in South Carolina). So for the last 48 hours, we’ve donned minimal clothing, complained excessively about the heat, and tried not to sweat to death. See? Camping. Or more like an episode of Naked and Afraid. Naked because it’s hot as hell – and afraid that we could die in our 2,000 square foot sauna from heat stroke (you didn’t know our little house had a sauna, did you? Yes, we’re fancy like that).

I married an engineer, so naturally, Tye wants to fix all the things. So late last night, after tucking the kids in ON TOP their beds and willing their fans to reach record breaking spin speeds (I had to assure Piper her fan would NOT fall out of the ceiling), I joined him outside to “help.” I was in charge of holding up the light while he busily disassembled things – and reminding him to use bug spray because the bugs are still alive and well even though the calendar says it’s “fall.”

Bottom line: dead motor, blazing hot house. And unfortunately, Amazon Prime doesn’t deliver fan motors in the middle of the night even IF your handy husband says he can fix it himself so we had to call it a night – and call in the experts come morning. I’m not mad at you, Amazon Prime, just disappointed.

But, alas, our new friend and AC savior with All American Heating an Air showed up today and sweaty-headed Piper was so excited that he came to “fix the air” that she went ahead and invited him to “Gram’s birthday in Alabama.” My mom’s birthday is the 19th, and “Jeff” with All American Heating in Air is apparently invited. Come one, come all. When he left, he said to Piper, “See you at the party.” Mom if you’re reading this… head’s up. We’re recruiting strangers now.

So the house is wintry again. Nash is no longer diaper clad and sticky. Pipe is happy she can get back in her fleece Elsa pajamas (365 days a year, folks. FLEECE). I’m happy we can cross camping off the “life experience” list now that we’ve been there, done that. For real though, I have zero fond memories of camping (sorry mom and dad, you tried). Why anyone would willingly choose to pee outside and risk being eaten alive by a bear is beyond me. Not looking to offend any lovers of the outdoor activity, here. I’d just rather camp on our patio with a bottle of wine, in close proximity to my home that’s appropriately cool. Cool? Cool.

*HVAC stands for heating – ventilation – and cooling. It is not just H-VAC. If you already knew that, good for you. If you’re like me and thought it was H-VAC (like Z-Pack or Tupac) and now you feel like an idiot, you’re in good company. If it’s just me – that’s cool too. Not to be confused with our home. Tye just schooled me in mechanical terminology and feels like a boss right now.

I like to check Google to make sure I’m not alone when I learn something new.

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