It's getting hot these days. Summer is here. Temperatures are rising. Women are busting out their sun umbrellas to keep their skin for becoming "black." The grandmothers are no longer asking me after my morning runs if I'm cold because I wore shorts.
Summer heat means one thing: it's air conditioner time. It's pretty impressive I think that we made it until June to turn on the AC. You can't do that in Texas for sure.
So on the day of AC's maiden voyage, I coincidentally had a stomach ache. I told Gigi about it and this was her prompt diagnosis:
1) You're pregnant.
2) You must have gotten sick from the air conditioner.
I'm 99.9% that neither of those were the cause of my stomach ache.
And I'm 99.9% sure that that is not Ben Franklin.
(Come on. Someone...anyone...please tell me you caught "The Office" allusion. Beth? Lee? Jenn? Anyone? Don't leave me hanging!)