The Heat Made Me Do It

Last week this headline made the front page news in our local paper:

*Domestic Disturbance Calls Rise with Summer Temperatures*

I am willing to bet that this didn't surprise anyone in town.  What is it about the heat that makes you want to wail on someone? I'm not usually one to complain about the heat because I would've given my right arm for days like these last February.  But with the heat index for July clocking in at an average of about 101 degrees, one can't expect me to hold my tongue forever.  And let's just face it, the heat brings out the cranky.

For instance, I couldn't help it that I ripped my husband up, down and sideways for sneaking in the house, yelling "boo" and scaring the living daylights out of me.

It's just not that funny.

Not in the heat.


And I can't be blamed that last week when the trash truck drove by our house I told the girls I was going to throw them in it if they fought one more time.

I just can't handle it.

Not in the heat.


And what about a few days ago, when I told Eric to shoot Wayne (our cat) for peeing on our camping chairs in the garage.

I don't do extra messes.

Not in the heat.


Clearly, I haven't been myself.  The heat made me do it.

Now that the August weather has been wonderful, I'm finding it hard to blame my words and actions on the heat.  Guess we'll have to go back to hormones for a while.  At least until winter sets in.