Every summer my mom insist my partner and I bring some friends and stay at the lake house for a week. I am tempted to say of course immediately; the lake house hold so many special and good memories for me; we spent every warm day and all seasons there. As a child that place held the wonderment of magic for me.
As an adult, the lake house has lost some of its magic and nostalgia I once had. Since the beginning, the lake house has never had an air conditioning service .My father, forever the penny pincher refuses to break down and purchase what he considers an extravagant expense. I even offered to buy one for the place, but he absolutely puts his foot down on the subject. His 1950’s way, Ward Cleaver thinking will not allow him to take money from his son for something like that.
Instead, he would rather I avoid the topic, and have anxiety about that one week and the heat and humidity of that stupid lake house. My Mom, dad’s staunch supporter, offers me the advice of hopping in the lake if we get too hot. Great, sage advice when I’m trying to sleep at night, covered in sweat, that’s the perfect time to jump in the lake. I tried to persuade my dad one last time by printing ot the heat index suspected this year; we were due for 90-100 degree weather everyday, but stubborn dad refused to give in. Well, I decided, I could be stubborn too. I went out and purchased a window air conditioning unit that I planned on installing on the first night. I planned on getting sleep this vacation, and I could argue with dad during the daylight.