Tuesday, August 01, 2006
So nothing adds to the heat of the day than a ....
FREAKING DEAD AIR CONDITIONER!!!!!
Oh yeah. You read that right. DEAD. Deader than a nit. Deader than Elvis. Deader than Ghandi. Deader than Mother Theresa. You get the drift.
I was walking around the house this afternoon, thinking to myself "self.. it sure is hotter than hell in here. Let's go make sure the air is on."
83 FREAKING DEGREES in my house. And getting warmer.
The blower was running, but the unit was just sitting there, not doing a damndiddlydoo thing. That is when Mama starts talkin' smack! I started cussing like a sailor, and Queen's eyes became saucers. I am pretty sure I saw the Door Man, taking notes.
Called a repairman. Said he can come over tomorrow morning and get the part number for the compressor, because he can just tell that is the problem. See... the unit. It makes this buzzing sound. Kinda like it wants to work, but it has decided that working is just too much work.
So.... I have the window unit in our room running full-tilt, and fans in the hallway pulling the cooler air from our room into the hallway and into the kids' rooms. Queen is asleep on the floor in front of the fan.
And I have to admit... it did force me to take my children to the .... gasp... oh gosh I hate to admite this... the PUBLIC POOL! Where promptly 10 minutes after we got there, they had to evacuate because someone puked in the pool. Nice. I think "puking in the pool" is codename for "high school lifeguards don't want to work yet so let's go have a powow over at the yellow slide of death and make everyone sit in the grass and explain to their children why they can't get in the pool yet" because I certainly witnessed no puking at all.
At least that is what I am telling myself because I had just gone under the water at about the time they blew their whistles.
Back to that air compressor...
I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.
Proof positive of why you should never send a chil...