The day I got back from muggy Oklahoma, I was so relieved by the relatively cooler, definitely dryer air. After a few days at home, with our whole house fan still out of commission, and me being too lazy or stubborn to pull the portable air conditioner out of the closet, it doesn't feel like so much of a relief. I checked the relative humidity on the weather app, which claims it's just 20%, but I choose to believe it's higher here. I have a microclimate based on all my freshly watered plants, right? If that isn't true, don't tell me otherwise. I need something to blame.
The Mr is down in Alabama for one more night. He griped a little bit about the sticky blanket that passes for air down there. But for the most part, he will be in properly cooled homes, not counting the hour or so he had to spend in a hot airplane hanger for the change of command ceremony he went there for. I wish I could have gone down for the ceremony too, but I'm glad I had the flexibility to go to Oklahoma instead.
With him out of town, it falls on me to be the primary pet wrangler. Most of the time, that's just fine. Between 5 and 7:30 am, it is a whole lot less fun. Saoirse's bladder alarm goes off first, and then the kitty boys tell me what a bad mom I am for making them wait past 6 for breakfast. I wish they could tell the difference between which parent is a morning person, and which one never, ever, ever will be.
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