I caught a quick glimpse of the TV yesterday (while I was vacuuming and dropping sweat that could fill a man-made lake) as the youngest was channel surfing (yes, he is male and inherited this trait from his father’s gene pool). The quick flash I saw was of the USA pictured on a weather map and the entire country was lit up red with 90’s and 100’s across the board. A meteorologist was standing in front of the weather map speaking to the camera and wearing a look of concern in addition to his slightly wilted and crumpled suit.
That’s all I got. I couldn’t hear him and before I could power down the sweeper and make a request that the little TV dictator keep that station on for a minute, he changed the channel. I debated on using my rank to overtake him and seize power of the arc of the covenant but decided to continue working and sweating.
Sweating has been a part of daily life. But I’m not complaining (thank God for A/C). Although apocalyptic, I love the heat. Ok, so this might be a bit oppressive (we live in the arm pit of the world) but I’d rather have this heat than the horrid blizzard of a winter we had to endure. Actually, I’d rather have my butt planted in Arizona where there is zero humidity. The humidity is what kills us here.
Well some of us more or less than others. My middle child, Dos, cannot handle humidity in any form and Mr. Pavlov was birthed and raised in the heat ridden, humid, tropical Philippines.
Dos is a big boy and an avid sport player. By big I do not mean McHeffer, I mean large for his age. At 12yrs he is 5’7″ and 160# The boy is solid. Think hitting a brick wall and you’ll get it about right. He is also freakishly strong. I already cut his hair so I know for a fact that we don’t have any Sampson going on here (and he has also taken sips of fermented drink – another non-Sampson trait).
Thanks to his size, power, attitude and natural talent, he is readily accepted into the sport arena and plays just about everything known to mankind. I have the mileage on my newer Clown Car (the non-affectionate name for our 5 seater downsize after the death of our beloved Honda Minivan) to prove it. Currently he is on a basketball league. Outdoors. An outdoor basketball league. Clear? Outdoors. He had a game yesterday in the 100+ degree hot and humid temps.
My Mama heart was feeling a bit sorry for my big sized baby. Hey, I still remember the day he was born like it were yesterday. His head and shoulders are the most vivid of the memories (I will remember them forever!) but he will always be my baby no matter how large he becomes. So when he came to me all pathetic looking asking if he could sit this game out, I knew my sports crazed kid was suffering from the heat. Was it truly worth it? Making a kid who sweats buckets, becomes easily dehydrated and then vomits up the attempts at rehydration play in this dangerous heat index? The image of him hurling all over the court and the other players sealed the decision for me. I told him he could remain at home. Indoors.
Now Mr. Pavlov is a heat eating machine. I think he possesses a mutant tropical gene that enabled him to live (as in play outdoors) in the Philippines. The man is unphased. He is also an avid participant in sports and his true love is cycling (think Lance Armstrong as in cycling NOT his true love…just so we’re clear!)
He would sleep with his bike if I permitted her in our bed….but I don’t and she is confined to the garage or on the trainer in our family room. He cycles 25 miles to work “just cause” and pushes himself regardless of the heat index. He laughs at the sun and the gnats don’t even attempt to buzz his head, dive bomb his eyes or lodge in his sweat. They know better. Mosquitos don’t touch him either (I’m thinkin’ the mutant gene repels them).
He is an outdoor god. But I’m not quite ready to place an image of him in my garden or erect a totem pole just yet. Even though these next few pictures are totally statue worthy:
On basketball day he came home from work wearing similar garb to the above photos. Yes, he cycled to work, again. His cycling suit was unzipped (see above)and he was joyfully sweaty.
I wondered how long the joy would last once I informed him that I permitted our heat intolerant child to skip his game. Without further delay I spit out the information. Mr. Pavlov looked at me, then glanced at Dos lounging on the couch wearing only his basketball shorts and playing with his ipad (nice presentation Dos!), then glanced back at me. I waited for the speech about team commitment, keeping kids active and off of brain numbing computer gadgets and TV (Mr. Pavlov is also ex Airborne) but instead he nodded and replied a simple,
“Yea, it is hot.”
I offered Mr. Pavlov a glass of water and told Dos he should be thankful for a little thing called endorphins!