With Ben and I, we are like any other couple. We argue about the heat in the winter, and we argue about the fan placement in the summer. Neither one of us ever wins, because the other is just to stubborn to give in... but then again, who isn't stubborn when it comes to one's comfort?
Last summer was our first whole summer here. And guess what? Ben wasn't here for it because he was in training. So, naturally, I felt this year, that I was the expert on the fan placement within our home because I really had it figured out last year and I knew it would be just as good this year. But, the nature of man just can't stand by and watch his wife set up the fans without trying his OWN ways (which turned out to be the same ways I tried last year and they didn't work as well... but you know men, they don't listen and they seem to think that they have magic hands and that THIS time since THEY are doing it, it will work better).
And naturally, I let him do his thing, then when he left for work, I changed them back.
When he got home he ran around the house and put them back the way HE wanted them. Men seem to think they know everything. Can you read my eyes rolling. Ben's arguement was that he is an engineer, he SHOULD know ALL about airflow dynamics MUCH better than lil' ol' me. But I was quick to pull the woman's intuition card (which we ALL know trumps any card a man can pull) -- this really irritated my husband, but he backed off the other night and let me have my way... until, I went to sleep, that is.
A few nights ago, I slept TERRIBLE! I was hot, there was no airflow, and it was muggy. Basically, I thought I was going to die. As I lay in bed, I thought there was no way Ben would have turned off our AC unit in the living room, or turned off the fans.... no idiot would do that in the middle of summer... it was just a super hot night right?
Finally, after tossing and turning for a few hours, I got up and went in the next room. Ben had turned off all the fans AND the AC unit and opened all the windows in the apartment. There was no breeze, nothing. Just dead, stale air and the smell of sweat. I checked on the boys and they were SOAKED in their beds, they were so hot.
That was it. The last straw.
I. Am. Going. To. Kill. Him.
Well, I ran in the bed room and gave him a good swat, anyway, and expressed to him in no uncertain terms and few potty words here and there about how I felt about his "cooling system". (Note: I'm not a very nice person when I'm half asleep and hot) He said something about a nice cross breeze and I shot back that if there is no breeze outside our house isn't going to magically make one. If he wanted a "nice cross breeze" he could go out and sleep in the van with the windows open out there! I then threatened the use of his fingers if he EVER turned off my fans and AC unit again!
This time I won.
Never mess with a woman and her fans. Period.