It's hot like childhood summers of sticky popsicles and lukewarm fans. Like upstairs rooms and sleeping without covers & wet rags stuck to your arms all night while you toss and turn and breathe in nothing but terrible August heat (in July!)
I spent 3 hours rocking Baby J no less than five inches away from two fans - one for his front and one for his back. He had the worst puppy dog eyes as he limply stared at the offensive air. "Why mommy, why?" Basically, son, because plug-in fans conquer heat like a thimble contains the ocean. Do you get my over dramatic, slightly mixed metaphor?
It all means one thing -- I will not go through another summer with children without air conditioning. I recognize I have a child, not children, but heat stroke is leaving me seeing double.