Hot Stuff

'Tis the season to have hot flashes, fa-la-la-la-la, La-open-a-freakin'-window!

JAO will be wearing a t-shirt, a button-down and his suit jacket and still put on his long, wool coat and gloves. Meanwhile, I am driving the kids to school in a tank top and bare feet. I suffer through the drive in the stifling heat because their little hormonal systems have yet to undergo the assault mine has, and then as soon as they jump out of the car, I roll down the window and stick my arm out into the wind trying to direct more of the cold air onto my overheated torso.

I really miss wearing turtlenecks and cute sweaters. Okay, so I wouldn’t wear a cute sweater now anyway because my extra body bulk would only look even more bulky, but still. I have figured out that scarves are the way to go. I can wrap one around my neck when I am a bit chilly and still be able to easily yank it from my steaming body when I start to over-heat.

I know everyone is complaining right now about how cold it is her in the South. And I agree that if it is going to be this cold, we should at least have some snow. But, there is nothing as refreshing to a hot-flasher as strolling out to the mail box in shorts and a t-shirt when it is 25 degrees outside.

It wasn’t always like this. There was a time when I could wear a camisole, a sweater and a scarf and be quite comfortable. Now, just thinking about that makes me want to open the freezer and sit inside.

Worried that I might have developed some exotic ailment that affects only the body’s ability to regulate its temperature -- like some South American reptilian disease or something -- I had the doctor run a complete blood work analysis on me last year. Sadly, the lab said there was nothing exotic about me at all.

At first I attributed it to just one other way having children has wrecked my poor body. However, I do know women who suffer from this and have not birthed any kids. So, now I’ll just blame Eve. She’s the eternal fall-gal for any weird body thing that women must endure but from which men are unjustly exempt.

Too bad I can’t develop some magic, rapid weight-loss disease.

Wait...I think that’s called cancer.

Never mind. I’ll just stick with the hot flashes.