Wednesday, September 3, 2008

There's no such thing as a lucky number

My husband can be a bit of a Glum Gus. He’s never seen a glass half-full and can smell bad luck a mile away. He comes by it naturally, from his mother, “Mrs. Have you had that looked at? Because I’m no doctor, but it looks like cancer to me.” She once told her own pregnant daughter who was expressing her excitement about becoming a mother, not to count her chickens before they hatch. Really, she did.

My husband is very much the same way. There is no seeing the brightside of things, no counting our blessings without noting what could go wrong with each one. Every sprained ankle is probably a hairline fracture and every odd noise in the house, car, or coming from a kid is a prediction of a future calamity.

Where was I going with this? Oh yeah.

We have two AC units. One cools the downstairs, the other, you guessed it, the upstairs. Since no one really goes upstairs during the day, except the cat and she’s on her own, we try to save a buck or two by setting the upstairs thermostat to around 85 during the day. We bump it back down at bedtime and all is well.


Last night for some reason Sad Sal decided that it was hotter than usual up there. It was “taking forever” to cool down. –Did I also mention speed? He NEEDS things to happen instantly. Cooking food, internet connections, people returning his phone calls, he demands ACTION. Lightening fast action.

Opting out of a conversation about the impending demise of our air conditioning unit I gave him a kiss good night and went downstairs to have a smidge of alone time. It was maybe five minutes before my cell phone rang, my husband calling me, FROM UPSTAIRS. “Honey, it’s really hot up here. I just know that AC unit is going out.” --I want to tell you that we live in Arizona where temperatures have started to drop into the autumn range of the LOW HUNDREDS, and only about fifteen minutes had passed since he had adjusted the thermostat and during those fifteen minutes he had been pacing around chanting about how hot it was up there, no doubt he could have worked up a sweat in a 58 degree room.

Drawing on my wells of serenity (just kidding, I have five kids, if I had a well of serenity I would jump in) I calmly told him there was nothing to be done tonight but if he wanted to sleep on the sofa in the frigid downstairs regions he was welcome to do that.

He opted to stay upstairs in the “sauna” but to turn the air down a little more, because “it just doesn’t seem to be pushing out the air like it normally does”.

This morning I felt like Mrs. Claus. It was so cold I am surprised the bathroom pipes didn’t freeze. Looks like I won’t have to spend the day getting a repairman over here. My glass is half full already.

1 comment:

Ward and June said...

I wouldn't joke about frozen pipes if I were you. Do you know kind of damage you're talking about there?