This Heat Is Hot

For those of you who don’t live nearby, and don’t watch The Weather Channel 24/7, it’s been impossibly hot in Kansas City. With 47 counties under excessive heat warnings, not even the notoriously hottest places in the world have come close to matching Kansas City’s paralyzing heat index of 110 degrees this week. I love hot weather, but most Kansas Citians do not; in fact, they are big babies about hot weather. I hail from the Southeast, which means I’m used to excessive heat and humidity so thick you feel like mold could grow on your forehead if you’re outside for too long. But people here go indoors and refuse to venture out when the heat gets too hot. I’m not saying it’s not hot, because it is, painfully hot, but it’s not like you’re going to evaporate if you go outside. Of course, I’m a huge baby when it comes to Kansas City winters, and everyone makes fun of me for not being able to handle myself in ice and snow, so it’s only fair for the tables to turn as the seasons change.

I can think of lots of things to do outside when it's hot, even when Gary Lezak and Brian Busby (our proud local weathermen) scare everybody by going into dramatic meteorologist mode with their you-might-die extreme weather reports (it’s tornado season, can you blame them for being a little eager?). To prove my point, I’ve created a list of activities for you and the family to enjoy, which wouldn’t be possible without this heat.

1. Make sweat angels. Lie on a concrete sidewalk or driveway and raise your arms up and down while pushing your feet in and out. Stand up and see whose angel last the longest before drying up.

2. Lemonade stands are so out. Make popsicles out of random stuff and sell them on the street (people will buy anything cold when it’s hot). Some ideas: toothpaste popsicles, ketchup popsicles, toilet water popsicles, and, my personal favorite, spit popsicles.

3. Buy a really crappy above ground pool. My neighbors did this and it has been a pleasure to look at that plastic blue siding all year-round.

4. If the “buying” or “above ground” part of #3 turns you off, grab a shovel and dig a hole in your back yard. It might take awhile for it to fill up with water, but when it does—oh boy, everyone’s going to want to play in your mud pool!

5. Decorate the sidewalk. Who needs chalk when you have sweat and food coloring?

6. Stand on top of an office building in the middle of the day and throw water balloons at people walking by who look really hot. They won’t say ‘thank you,’ but just know that’s what they really mean.

7. Fry an egg on the sidewalk. I don’t know, they do it in the movies and it always looks kind of cool. Once it’s fried, put it in an envelope and send it to KMBC or KSHB—Lezak and Busby will go crazy and it will totally make the evening news.

8. Buy a boat, park it in your driveway and sit in it. The rest is up to your imagination.

9. Go to a local “Cooling Center” and rub elbows with a sweaty homeless man.

10. Kansas City is the self-proclaimed “City of Fountains.” So, go swimming with some stone statues that spit water.

Disclaimer: Quinnterruption is not responsible for any of the repercussions of the activities listed above. No, seriously. Don’t even try to blame me if you get arrested, suffer heat stroke, or severe disappointment. The heat makes people crazy, and I have heat on my side—so, yeah, tell that to your lawyer.

If Bear Could Talk...

Morning

Bear: So, I've pretty much had to pee for ten hours now.

Me: ‘Ello, puppy! How’s my good little boy?

Bear: Fine. Let me outside before I piss on you.

Me: Want to go outside?

Bear: Yes, I’ve been trying to tell you this by whining incessantly and making as much noise as possible.

Me: Okay, come on, let’s go…

Bear: Finally.

Day

Me: Hi little guy! What are you doing?

Bear: I’m pretending not to hear you.

Me: Come here, Bear…

Bear: No.

Me: Bear. Come.

Bear: Still. No.

Me: Want a treat?

Bear: No! Wait...yes? Depends on the treat...get the treat and then we'll see.

Me: Come here, come get a treat!

Bear: Fine. But I’m getting up because I smell chicken, and not because you wanted me to...just so we are clear.


Evening

Bear: Are we going to go on a walk or what?

Me: Want to go on a walk?

Bear: Yes, but you’re taking forever to get ready.

Me: Okay, hold on while I put on my shoes.

Bear: So…now? How about now? Now can we go? Can we go now?

Me: Just a minute…

Bear: Okay, well I’m going to run around the dining room table over and over again as fast as I can until you’re ready…

Me: No, Bear! Stop!

Bear: Fine. I'm dizzy anyway. But now I’m going to tear apart this paper towel I pulled out of the trash when you weren't looking and leave the shreds all over the kitchen.

Me: What did you do? Bad boy!

Bear: You know, all you had to do was hurry up and take me on the damn walk and this wouldn’t have happened…this is really your fault.

Me: Ugh! Come on, we are going for a walk now before you can make another mess.

Bear: I win!


The Walk

Me: Bear, wait, stop, no, Bear—wait, slow down.

Bear: Wow, look at all these sticks! I need to find the biggest one I can and then try to carry it and refuse to let go of it.

Me: Bear! Sit! Stop! Drop it…drop—give me that!

Bear: Oh well, there will be more sticks…

Me: Good boy, good drop it. Okay, slow down, buddy…hey, Bear!

Bear: You know, a sit up or two might make walking me easier. To prove it, I’m just going to run around you until you’re all twisted up and look like an idiot.

Me: Damnit, Bear!

Bear: Ha!—Hey, what’s that?

Me: Leave it alone, Bear…

Bear: But what is this smell…I’ve never smelled anything like it, I need to know…

Me: Come on, Bear…

Bear: Another dog – hey! Hi! I’m Bear, what’s your name? Can I smell you? You smell weird…what’s that, an ear? Tastes like jerky, mind if I chew it?

Other Dog: I will cut you.

Bear: Whoa, man. Let’s be friends. I’m just curious, that’s all…

Me (to other dog owner): Sorry, he’s just a puppy, so he’s really curious…

Bear: Yeah, see? Curious. Now lift up your leg so I can smell under there…

Me: Come along, Bear. No...come on…BEAR! NO!

Bear: You're a real fun-killer, you know that?


Bedtime

Bear: I’m not tired; I’ve been sleeping for the last four hours.

Me: Time for bed!

Bear: But, but, but…I think I have to go outside…yes, I need to go outside now.

Me: Come on, let’s go potty once more.

Bear: Tricked you! Now I’m just going to run around out here while you stand by the door calling for me and waking up all the neighbors.

Me: Beeeeeaaaaaarrrrr! Come on, come inside…want a treat? Beeeeaaaaarrrrrrr!

Bear: Hahahaha! What a dumbass…

Me: (squeaky toy, squeaky toy)

Bear: Hey! That’s my toy! I want to squeak that toy! Give it to me!

Me: Ha—Gotcha! Time for bed now…

Bear: Fine, lady. You might have won this one, but tomorrow is another day!

Me: That’s my good boy…are you good boy?

Bear: Yeah, I’m a good boy. See my tail wagging? Now scratch behind my ears until I fall asleep.

Dandelion Wishes

Dandelions are attacking my yard; the yellow ones and the fuzzy ones. The latter is most concerning since these are the seed-bearing parachutes that enable Dandelion Domination. As I turned to Google for appropriate dandelion killing methods and contemplated the most lethal approach, I felt a little evil, as if I was killing part of my remaining childlike wonder. When an ad, escaping the death grips of my Popup Blocker (much like a dandelion), appeared on my screen that said "Kill Weeds Dead" I decided I needed to go outside and assess the situation with childlike wonder rather than adult annoyance.

I remember dandelions as a staple in every bouquet I assembled as a kid. Growing up, our house was surrounded by open land and during the summertime it looked like a sea of green interrupted by bursts of yellow. In my mind, the dandelions gave the grass character and dimension.

When I was very young, someone taught me how to pick a fuzzy dandelion and make a wish as you blew the cottony parachutes into the wind. This fascinated me. Every time I came across one of these feathery lollipops I couldn’t resist the chance to make a wish and watch as the seeds gently left the stem. I started coming up with elaborate, multilayered wishes, thinking each snowflake-like seed deserved its own wish to float away on. But the older I got the more this favorite childhood pastime became a nuisance to garden-weary adults: "Don't do that! Now we are going to have dandelion weeds everywhere!" So I became more cautious, still making dandelion wishes when no one was looking.

I walked out into the backyard, surveying the awkwardly long stems with their parachutes of seeds and the yellow clusters, wanting to feel something other than annoyance. I reached for a snowcapped dandelion and studied the pattern, gathered my breath and made a wish, watching the seeds scatter throughout the yard and into the neighbor’s yard. I picked a few yellow blossoms, tied them together in a ring and admired the arrangement.

At the risk of sounding trite, I think there’s something we can learn from dandelions. In a way, they are nature’s interpretation of that laid-back, go-with-the-flow person we all claim to be—they aspire to float through air, letting the wind blow them to a new place where they will happily make a home; meanwhile, I get annoyed when the wind blows my hair out of place. There’s something admirable about the resilience of dandelions and their determination to prosper in the face of chemical death traps like “Kill Weeds Dead.”

Dandelions are brave interruptions that no one under the age of ten remembers how to appreciate. But today my childlike wonder was restored, rescued from the heartless dungeon of adult annoyances, and all it took was a dandelion wish.