Degrees of comfort

There are only so many layers you can discard, and still be considered dressed
I mean it's really not appropriate to run errands in your BVD's
--does that brand still exist?
The thermometer reads 102, the heat index is 107 (whatever that means)
I'm not supposed to fill up with gas until after the sun has set
Insert a visit to the local pool - ahhhhhh.
The car sitting in the sun reads 110
Ethan asked if 110 was as hot as fire
I told him I was pretty sure that fire was hotter than 110
And I could tell he was mulling something over in his mind
Charlie cried because her car seat was too hot
And muttered something about the air conditioner
Then Ethan interjected "so, hell is even hotter than 110,
That's really hot!"
And I grinned while making my own mental rationalization of his statement:
temperature of 110 = hot, fire = hotter, hell filled with fire, hell=really hot
He's been asking a lot of questions lately, a lot.
Then I scolded Charlie for complaining about the heat, and insisted that she "get control"
{Insert deep breath} control - check
And notified them both that a lot of people didn't have air conditioning
At which they both marveled
And it was quiet.
Then I wrote a blog complaining about the heat.
It's August, and I'm ready for December.
It's just so much easier to be dressed in December.