THERMOSTAT WARS

It is so hot that I cannot sleep. I reach for a Snickers bar for some comfort only to discover the chocolate has melted onto the wrapper. Now I will have to lick it off like a cow at a salt block.

Son of a biscuit!

I have driven to Phoenix to spend the night with my mother. I regret it the moment I step in the front door. It feels like I accidentally wandered into Death Valley.

“I can’t afford to turn it down,” she informs me. I know that is not true because I am her landlord and she pays no rent.

It is 80 %$#@* degrees in here!

She says good night and toddles off to her bedroom. I wait until she closes the door and tiptoe out to turn the thermostat down to 75.

Foolishly, I think I’ve won.

I wake around midnight with my pillow soaked with sweat. I glide through the dark house like a ninja. Son of a biscuit! She’s turned the temperature back up to 80. I turn it back down.

I wake at 3 AM with sweat plastering my hair to my forehead. I stomp out to the thermostat and turn it down again. I briefly consider going to my car and sleeping in it with the air conditioning blasting in my face.

By the time she wakes me up at 5:30, I look like someone who has been stranded in the Sahara for weeks.

I don’t even have to towel off when I climb out of the shower. It’s like stepping into an air dryer because she feels a fan makes up for the hellish temperature.

I can assure you it does not.

As God is my witness, I will never sleep here again.

Suddenly, it is 15 years later. I am reading in bed in my Tucson home. My dog, Pip, begins panting and slides off the bed onto the tile floor. Drama queen, I think. I pull my cotton blanket over my legs.

The air conditioner rumbles to life and I shiver as the cool breeze washes over me. Maybe I’ll turn the thermostat up a few more degrees.

I reach for the Snickers bar on my nightstand. The chocolate has melted onto the wrapper.

© Susan Luzader 2022