Let me preface this tale by saying that I hate, hate, hate, hate,
HATE hot, humid weather. I can't stand it. I wilt in it. I am
physically and mentally uncomfortable in it. I become cranky and lazy
and irritable, and you pretty much don't want to be around me. This is
is exacerbated by the fact that we only have air conditioning in our
bedroom and the girls' room, and the rest of our house traps heat like
a ... a ... heat trap. (The weather affects my ability to construct
similes as well.)
Unfortunately, Elsa and Clio are not
fans of hot weather either. They've been cranky and whiney and
tantrum-y the past few days. In fact, on Saturday, Clio threw a fit of
such ferocity that she actually managed to lock herself and Elsa in the
nursery as a result. I forget what the inciting issue was, but Clio for
some reason wanted to get out of the room, and was trying to open the
door while I was changing Elsa. She somehow managed to turn the little
lock knob thingy on the doorknob, unbeknownst to me, and when I closed
the door behind me to go downstairs and get a particular library book
to read to them before their nap, it locked. There are locks on all
three bedroom doors in our house, each with separate keys, because the
house used to be a rental property, where multiple people lived and
each had their own room. But when we bought the house, we were only
were given keys to two of them. Guess which one we didn't have?
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