Fanning the Flames of Marital Bliss

Our new house doesn't have air conditioning. Colorado Springs is warm for maybe three weeks out of the year and even then there is this cool breeze at night that, I must admit, sells the place.

Ahhh. Breathe it in.

Living in a house that relies on fresh mountain air instead of megawatts fills me with a giddy sensation that can only be attributed to moral superiority. My carbon footprint is getting ever more neutral. And that makes me so much better than you.

Plus I'm all about a low electric bill.

Of course, Husband and Children are different. Their Indian names are Keepers of the Heat I, II, and III. My boys break out in a sweat playing Nintendo. As a result, living without an artificial cooling system has them a bit...umm...hot under the collar.

Yesterday, Husband asked me to "pick up a fan for the boys' room."

Not a problem. Came home with this.



What the f*ck - it oscillates. Set it up myself on the edge of their dresser. Cause I rock with "no assembly required."

Husband came home and wanted to know if the thing came with extra rubberbands to make it go faster. Sent the kids into my room, one after the other, interrupting Jon Stewart no less, with questions like,

"Mommy, where's the spray bottle that goes underneath?"

Few minutes later...

"Can we rename our room Auschwitz?"

Always with the Holocaust references. My fault. Married a Jew and all.

Started ignoring them when Oldest shouted,

"Is this what George Bush's ass feels like?"

Finally, I soaked wash cloths in cold water, slapped them on the heat stroke victims' necks, and repeated the word melodramatic over and over inside my head while Husband made a midnight run for something more appropriate.

This five foot tall fire hazard.



Now I must wear a winter coat when entering my children's room. And my carbon footprint isn't nearly as neutral. And I can't act quite as superior.

But at least my kids aren't requesting water every fifteen minutes and I can watch Jon Stewart in peace. That's gotta count for something.