Rocketship Underpants

It’s a hundred and seven. Degrees. This entire city is grumpy and smelly and we’d like to know when we can have our rainy, misty, chilly Pacific Northwest back, please. We’re months away from that, you say? Oh. Okay.

It’s sad when people chat excitedly about a nice, cool ninety degree week ahead.

John and I have been in our apartment making out with our air conditioner all week after fairly uneventful, but sweltering rides in our respective cars to see our respective mothers this past weekend. They were born two years and two days apart. So late Friday night John went North and I went South. I was dumb enough to volunteer to take the cat with me. The cat thinks the dashboard just above the steering wheel is really the best sleeping spot and I spent the entire drive growling at him to not EVEN THINK ABOUT IT when he was quite obviously past thinking about it and attempting it.

But we all had a lovely weekend with our families and made it back to our lovely air conditioner Portland and promptly compared you-would-not-believe-how-hot-it-was-in-MY-car stories greeted each other warmly.

Today I got three text messages from confused friends about to call the police because we’ve disappeared off the Facebook face of the earth. No, I assured them, John and I are just exhausted. From what, you ask? From the heat, from thinking about the future, from stuff, just I don’t know, stuff.

***

Recently our friend, Matt, moved back to Alabama. We attended a going-away party for him despite this obviously misguided decision. I wasn’t drinking that night, in fact, as a part of my health-kick I’ve taken month long periods without alcohol. It’s a pretty nice thing because 1) it makes going out for drinks cheap (juice and soda water, woot!) 2) the rare occasions I do drink I only need one to feel mighty tipsy. On the night of Matt’s going away party I brought a couple of bottles of soda water and jokingly offered it up to other people. No one gave me the scornful looks I’d hoped for, but Matt sure did turn around and say, “You’re pregnant?”

“Noooooooooo.” I said.

Then Nate said, “That’s what I thought.”

“Noooooooooo.” I said again.

I tried to think of something funny to cover up the awkward moment, but I couldn’t.

Leaving the party I turned to John and said,

“So, you realize that everyone now thinks I’m pregnant.”

“Yeah.” He said.

And ever since then we’ve been joking about it. Like the dress I wore yesterday which is three sizes too big. It’s from awhile ago and I still love the dress, it’s a perfect summer dress. I decided to simply tie a sash around it and wear it out. Granted yesterday was only 103, but you know, I was a baby about the heat back then. By evening time I was tired of any restricted clothing and I removed the sash. This made my dress look like a muumuu.

“Oh my God,” John said as we took a walk last night. “That’s such a pregnancy muumuu.”

“I should wear it next time we hang out with people.” I said. I was completely amazed at my brilliant idea.

“Yes.” He said. And then we ran in the industrial sprinklers at the park down the block. Which was another brilliant idea of mine.

It was glorious.