Wait a minute. I'm home alone. This just got awkward.
But, in all honesty it's damn ass hot in here. In some sort of weird weather sitch we've gone from 77 to 99 and then back to the low 80's tomorrow. It's sketchy. I'm pretty sure we should have listened a little closer to Al all those years ago.
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| H-H-Hot. |
I could make it less hot in here. But, sadly, I'm a bit short on window air conditioners.
Now, in the 'new' house we don't have A/C. In the 'old' house we did. We had a bid done for A/C in this house. Kind of expensive and then also mentioned that our furnace is close to the end and we should probably replace it too. At the same time. For a wheelbarrow full of money. I'm also short on wheelbarrows full of money.
Our bedroom is a corner room. Two very large 100 year- old single pane windows. The sun blasts in. Madi's matches. Last year we had window units in both rooms. It helped a lot.
As the weather turned from warm to cold, the window unit in Madi's room was still there. I was an angry wife wanting that thing put away. It's on the list. TAKE IT OUT. I didn't put it in. I didn't want to take it out either. But, we were in the middle of a rain/wind storm. Cold air was rushing into the room around the unit. Ugh. How hard can this removal be?
Pretty damn hard, it turns out.
Well, not really. Just hard to do alone.
Mainly because the window was jammed.
I called in the boy for assistance. Got him up on his knees on the window seat, spindly nine-year-old arms pulling hard on the window at the same time I was twisting the unit to get leverage.
And then the window came free.
And the air conditioner fell.
Out.
I frantically grabbed the cord. Which sort of stopped the fall for an instant. The unit swung backward. And paused. Then swung forward.
Through the living room window.
The swung backward and up. Hung there frozen in time for a millisecond. The cord pulled free. Then, in an impressive smashing display disintegrated into a million pieces in the flower bed. Crushing my newly wired (took me the entire previous weekend) yard light on its way down. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the neighborhood.
FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!
I KILLED THE HOUSE.
I looked at the boy. He was in shock. Still on the window seat on his knees. Frozen.
I ran down the stairs and into the living room. Glass was everywhere. Now the rain and wind was blowing right in through a giant opening (that I created) in the house.
The husband, familiar to these types of incidents, went to the garage for plywood. Without saying a word.
Smart. That one.
