When It's That Hot

So the air con went out in the gymnasium where they were holding the Smokers this Saturday. While Mom, Miko and I sat in the Suburban in front of the air vents, Cris, Roy and my Dad wilted in the gym for 6 hours doing what Roy refers to as "sweating balls". We arrived at 11am, the bouts started at 2pm and Cristian's fight wasn't until 5pm. The place was packed, there were a total of 40 bouts and ONE FUCKING FAN, PEOPLE.
One. Fucking. Fan.
At one point my mom noted that the outside temp was at 107 degrees. ONE HUNDRED AND SEVEN DEGREES AND WE WERE IN THE SHADE. I attempted to sit in the gym with them but I was wearing my customary hoodie with no shirt underneath so within minutes all of the carefully applied make up was melting off of my face like the Nazi guy in Raiders of the Lost Ark and I couldn't even unzip the dumb thing. And of course, I outfitted Cris in a stylish ensemble which included work-out pants and a long-sleeved jersey. The poor kid was completely damp. I like to think this helped to cool him off. But I know that is not the case.
By the time we left we were ALL disgusting. And disgusted. Luckily the trip home from Corpus Christi is only a couple of hours and Roy and I were able to cool off on the way. The boys even fell asleep at one point. As we drove along enjoying the view, Roy lamented that he would probably need to spritz his crotch with detangler in order to peel off his underwear. He then gave me the "signal". You know the signal? The signal is given when other child occupants in the car are momentarily unconscious and it indicates that now would be a GOOD TIME to perform certain wifely duties while en route. Otherwise known as the Car And Driver Blow Job.
Of course he was kidding but that didn't stop me from squealing in outrage..."WHAT! DO YOU WANT ME TO GET SALMONELLA POISINING AND DIE??"