Call It What You Want...

It's not yet 11 a.m. and it's over 90 degrees. It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have the internal Vinson-heating system PLUS the extra heat of that kid in there that keeps jumping around.

First Mark brings me his shoes and hands them to me. I think I see where this is going, but I put them on him.

Then he brings me one of mine, the right sandal of the pair that I have worn exclusively since the temperature got above 50. He holds it in front of my right toe so I would put it on. Then he runs toward the front door. "Peas???" he asks imploringly.

"I need the other shoe, please," I tell him. He stands there, a little dumbfounded. He brought me a shoe. What do I think I need? That shoe is way bigger than BOTH of his little shoes. How could I be so demanding?

"It's right next to you. By the couch. Right there." I point. I really don't want to get up and commit myself to going out in the heat.

He comes back over to me, pulls on my finger. "I need the other shoe."

Next to the chair on which I'm sitting is a pair of blue mules, which I haven't worn in some days, but which haven't gotten all the way upstairs yet. He picks up the left one and holds it up to my left foot. I laugh out loud and hug him. He brought me a left shoe. I didn't necessarily tell him I needed one that matched, did I?

He finally brings me the matching sandal. We get a hat and sunglasses and head out into the oven the day has become. He wants to ride his little trike, which I have to lean over a little to help him push. (I'd rather he just walk.) I have become a complete wimp in the heat. We don't go very far, and I've had it. He wants to take the hat off because his head's hot and sweaty. I don't want his little blond head with its wisps of fine hair to turn into a tomato. We head home. Fortunately, we see a dog partway, which salves the wound of having to go home before he's ready.

We water the plants on the front porch, and he holds his hand under the drip from the hanging baskets. Now his hands are dirty, so we have to go in to wash hands. Washing hands is almost good enough that he forgets he was ripped off on his walk. The air conditioning helps mom a little, too.

The temperature's supposed to drop a little in coming days. Then we can take more walks, little guy.