I was pulling and pulling and it wasn’t moving. I was flipping my wrists and trying to fold that stupid thing down inside itself, like I did with ease all last season, and it just wasn’t cooperating.
I was beginning to look like a spaz, and checked around me to see if anyone was looking. And then I huffed. And stopped. And realized some random elastic thingy had been closed in the door. That’s what was working against me.
After realizing I had just gotten into a fight with my sunshade, I also realized the gravity of the whole scene.
Summer is coming. And that means other struggles are coming, too.
Like seatbelt burns. The ones that singe you within a half-second of contact. Also related: steering wheel burns, and burns from any other chrome or dark surface in a vehicle, and burns from trying to open your flaming car door.
It’s actually engulfed in invisible flames. For real. Especially in Arizona.
It also means no detours after the grocery store. You transport any chocolate or ice cream or popsicles as if they are donated organs awaiting a desperate patient. No distractions. No red lights. No detours.
You sometimes even consider a siren.
It means heat-related complaints from everyone in the car within two seconds of entering it. It means extra napkins for drive-thru ice cream cones. It means fruit snacks left unattended become sticky blobs, and unopened soda cans left in the trunk have the potential to become carbonated projectile fountains.
It means pitty tees even when you weren’t prepared for it, “dressier” flip flops you hope will pass muster, and a perpetual bottle of water.
It also means sprinklers on morning runs, water fountains on the trampoline in the afternoon and trips to the lake where nobody dramatically complains of instant frostbite and instead finds the dip refreshing.
Summer is coming. So I’m hoping me and my sunshade can make up.