Why Won’t Mom Fix Summer??

I’ve discovered another thing Hooligan believes I’m personally responsible for.

The list is getting surprisingly long.

Every summer night follows the exact same script. It’s 2:00 a.m., I have to be at work in six hours, and the house is hot.

Not “call the fire department” hot. Just... summer hot.

Unfortunately, Hooligan doesn’t recognize that distinction.

Suddenly:

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!!”

I crack open one eye.

He’s staring at me.

The look on his face says it all:

Mother... there appears to be a problem.

“What?”

It’s HOT.

“I know.”

The look changes.

I would appreciate it if you would correct this immediately.

“Hooligan... I can’t.”

Silence.

Now he just looks confused.

His expression says:

I don’t think you understand. It is HOT.

I try explaining.

“Hooligan... I don’t control the weather.”

He stares at me for a long moment.

His expression says:

You have never actually tested that theory.

Honestly, he clearly thinks that I control the weather. For the life of him, he can’t understand why I haven’t simply changed the temperature to minus 280 degrees.

Apparently, anything warmer is simply poor management.

In Hooligan’s mind, this isn’t weather.

It’s a customer service issue.

And unfortunately, Mom is the manager.

I make food appear. I refill water bowls. I open doors. I solve problems. Apparently, regulating the Earth’s thermostat should also be part of my job description.

Meanwhile, Clover has already solved the problem.

She’s stretched out on the coolest tile in the house. Somehow, she’s found the one spot with the best airflow.

She doesn’t complain. She doesn’t howl. She doesn’t wake the entire household.

She simply opens one eye, looks at Hooligan, then slowly looks at the empty tile three feet to her left.

The look says everything.

...Seriously?

Hooligan, however, has no interest in practical solutions.

Why quietly move to a cooler spot when Mom could simply lower the temperature of the entire planet instead?

I’ve started keeping a running list.

Things I’ve Apparently Been Put In Charge Of:

Food. Bones. Pool safety. Stair physics. The weather.

Earth’s rotation is still under investigation.

Poor Justin hears all of this from the bedroom. He doesn’t even ask anymore. He already knows.

“The weather again?”

“Yep.”

“Still refusing to fix it?”

“I’m waiting to hear back from Corporate.”

Unfortunately, Corporate—also known as Mother Nature—isn’t returning my calls.

I still maintain that I don’t control the weather.

Hooligan remains convinced I’m simply choosing not to.