Freaking hell it is hot … and not in a sexy way

Today the temperature in Cape Town was registering 30 degrees, and that was at 8am.

By 12h00 it was around the 38 degree mark.

Fortunately I was firmly placed directly under the company air conditioning that blasted cold air onto my face.  Bless, bless, bless them. I sat there thinking cool thoughts, and feeling sorry for anyone who had to do manual labour in this heat.

Like all great moments, it came to a rather abrupt end.

Isabelle is at a new school this week.  The school is about 15 minutes walk from home, so Pepe is meant to fetch Isabelle.

This week the temperature is just too hot to expect Pepe or Isabelle to walk anywhere, so I have left to fetch Isabelle, and then the kids.  I go home and work a few hours from home to ensure I have done what needs to be done.

Today I spent an hour in my car fetching kids and trying to get them home.

It was not a little warm, it had passed fucking hot somewhere on the N1.

I suddenly realised that black leather seats in a car are not ideal.

I also realised that my road rage is definitely apparent when the temperature goes over 35.  I also realised that at a certain point you cannot turn the car air conditioner any higher.

I soon realised that I am willing to drive off a steep embankment if I am packed in to a car, with three children and it is so hot that my air conditioner just decides that it might as well send out hot puffs of air, as it is being asked to do too much.

It was an excruciating hour, and the kids were arguing constantly.  I really started to rethink why I have not run away from home sooner.  I had fantasies of the single life, and wanted to go on a 10 school tour to explain to school kids the benefits of remaining celebite and childless.

We get home and the arguing escalates.

Isabelle is screaming blue murder. Granted she started when I stopped at Pick ‘n Pay.  I told the kids I was running in to get them three times ice cold Fantas.  The reality was I needed to run in to grab myself a bottle of wine.  I realised there was no way I was going to make it through the evening without.

I had already stopped at Woolies before that, but thought, yep, I would be the bigger person and not do wine tonight.  15 minutes later, in a car, with three screaming kids and the outside temperature bouncing between 38 and 39, I felt a little pit stop was not a choice, it was a life necessity.

I am sitting here and I have little rivers of sweat running down my back and gathering in my Mr Price polyester underwear.

Kids + hot weather + short patience level = no fun!

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