BulgingButtons

Not bad for a fat girl

Summer in Phoenix

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hot-sun

 

Hot is a dog who won’t go outside,

preferring instead to sprawl across the tile floor

directly across from the air vent

Hot is the sensation that your paper parking permit

Will spontaneously combust between your fingertips

As you remove it from your windshield

Hot is a ponytail, braid, or bun

Morning, noon, and night

Hot is driving home from work

With the air conditioning on high

and pulling into the garage

before the car has cooled down

Hot is feeling apprehension every time you turn the ignition key

and feeling gratitude every time the car starts

Hot is waiting until later in the day

when the shadows appear

to go into the backyard pool

Hot is floor fans, ceiling fans, wet cloths, and water bottles

Hot is planning on cold cereal and yogurt for dinner

Hot is finding the one parking spot under the scrawny Palo Verde Tree

just for a little bit of shade

Hot is laundry. So much laundry.

Hot is choosing shoes with thicker soles

so you don’t feel as much of the heat coming up from the pavement

Hot is watching movies like Ice Age and Frozen

Even if there are no children in the house

Hot is extra chemicals for the pool

and extra water for the lawn

Hot is Phoenix in the summer

and no surprise

Hot is the temporary price we pay to live here

For that reason only, hot is okay.

Author: BulgingButtons

I'm a middle aged woman doing the things that middle aged women do and trying not to beat myself up. I'm living the life I choose with the man I love, the teenage son who impresses me all the time, and the most adorable pup ever rescued from the euthanasia list. We live in the heat of the Southwest, where I regularly sweat through my Lane Bryant bras.

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