I can’t clean our house anymore. It is too hot.
OK, it won’t be too hot in a few days, so I can probably do it then. And it was not too hot for a while a week ago, so I could have done it then, too. But right now, at this moment, I can feel confident and guilt-free in the knowledge that today, it is too hot.
Now don’t get the wrong idea, our house is not a complete pigsty, I have done some cleaning here and there as well as a few random acts of tidying. What I have not done is the floor mopping, carpet vacuuming, major bathroom and kitchen cleaning that a “real” cleanup demands.
It is just too hot.
I have let the kitchen counters stay piled up with junk, only putting away the top few layers. I tell myself I am OK with having to carefully step over the clothes, toys, books, etc. in my daughter’s room everyday to give her a kiss goodnight (don’t some parents call this “creative expression”?). I avoid unloading the dishwasher because I want to be sure it is completely cool before opening the door; I can’t bear to let any more heat into the house.
This all sounds very unkempt, I know, but isn’t this what is meant by “those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer”? I am not sure if it is exactly what Nat King Cole meant, but I don’t think it is far off the mark either. I like to think that I am just being loyal to my season. In another week or so it will be September and with it will come cooler temperatures, fewer excuses, and, if I am lucky, a clean house.
