Please, Oh Please, Tell Me the Air Conditioner Will Be Fixed Today

"Mommy, I can't scoop my macaroni."

We're eating dinner after a fun but hot afternoon working in Grandma's yard. Usually we ease into summer around here with the temperature gradually rising, but not this year. Less than a week ago we were still worrying about frost on our newly planted flowers. Today we hit 90. The babies are tired and sticky hot. I hand her a spoon to make the scooping easier.

"MOMMY! I STILL CAN'T SCOOP MY MACARONI."

I look at her spoon. It's filled with macaroni.

"Look's like you got it to me!"

"NO!" She's yelling that yell that I know means she's heading to the land of complete irrationality.

"THERE'S TOO MANY MACARONIS ON MY SPOON!"

Too many macaronis? "Ok, I'll help you." I scoop up a smallish bite of macaroni.

"NOOOO! NOW THERE ISN'T ENOUGH MACARONI ON MY SPOON!"

Her head looks like it may start to spin. Across the table, I see Party Girl pop her entire hunk of banana into her mouth. I sprint over to scoop it out.

"MOMMY! YOU HAVE TO SCOOP THE MACARONI RIGHT FOR ME! YOU HAVE TO DO IT RIGHT NOW!"

Seriously. We have never had a macaroni issue in this house before. Party Girl pops the giant hunk of banana back into her mouth again. I run over to scoop it out and think I see a glint of understanding in her eye.

"MAN OH MAN OH MAN! WON'T SOMEONE HELP ME WITH MY MACARONI?"

Party Girl chortles outloud and pops the banana back into her mouth. I know, I know, just cut up the banana already. The yelling has put me on a slow learning curve. I remove the banana and cut it up. Party Girl takes one look at it and feeds it to the dog.

Sass is attempting to reload her spoon. She makes half-hearted jabs at the bowl of macaroni and when she comes up with just one noodle on her spoon she starts shrieking again.

"THIS IS NOT A GOOD DEAL! I DON'T LIKE JUST ONE BITE! I WANT A GIANT BITE!"

She jabs the macaroni again. This time she comes up with a well-loaded spoon. Finally, I think.

"MAMA! MAMA! IT'S TOO BIG FOR MY LITTLE MOUTH!" She lays her head on the table and begins to sob. Party Girl is busy scooping yogurt onto her belly and smearing it around. For just a brief moment, I lay my head on the table and consider sobbing too. M's at the store getting hamburger buns and it feels like he's been gone for days.

I give Sass a hug and rub her back until she calms down. Normally yelling at the table will get you a ticket on the express train to The Quiet Spot until you're ready to act with what passes for reasonable behavior around here, but I can tell tonight is different. We try one more time to get the macaroni right. Finally she gives up.

"I think I'm done," she says dejectedly, and goes into the living room to watch TV.

I look over at Party Girl who was just bathed an hour ago and who now has a thick layer of banana and yogurt covering most of her body. She's busy dumping her sippy of milk into a puddle on the table and splashing in it. Her macaroni lies untouched in front of her.

I make Sass a turkey sandwich and Party Girl a bottle and let both of them eat their second version of dinner on the couch watching Little Bear. Within the hour, they're both completely sacked out in their nice cool bedrooms -- where the air conditioning actually does work -- and I can almost see relief on their peaceful, sleeping faces, their arms and legs thrown wide with abandon.

The heat isn't supposed to break for a couple days and until then? The menu will be fingerfood, fingerfood, fingerfood. No more wiley spoons and macaroni for us.