I await the air conditioning repair persons.

We have been a-waiting since last Saturday evening.

Once the afternoon festivities ended and the family and guests said their final goodbyes and departed, the air conditioner quit. It was about 8 PM. The temperature outside was hovering near 100 degrees Fahrenheit (37.78 degrees Celsius). The official high for the day was 102 F. It felt much hotter. At one point, my outside wall thermometer read 110 F (43.34 C). On any scale, those are some degrees. I guess the AC unit said enough is enough and stopped dead in its tracks in protest. Of course, the timing was perfect.

On Saturday evening the nearest repair person is not in sight until Monday noon. In the Texas summer, this would usually mean a frantic pack and retreat to the relief of Hotel Cool. Fortunately, our new house has two AC units. The survivor muscled up to the plate and began its attempt to carry us through the weekend. The Edge of Heat advanced slowly down the back hallway, through the bedrooms and into the living areas. Parts of the house became uninhabitable. Shedding clothes, we backed closer and closer to the remaining draughts of refrigerated air. Huddled like modern-age monkeys in a remake of the movie “2001: A Space Odyssey,” we raised our hands to the cooling ceiling vent that was our hope and future. Heat can do strange things with the mind.

The doorbell just rang.

The techs are now at their work.

I await patiently the results of their endeavors.

My leading theory is the grandkids did it. My three-year-old grandson has a talent for these things. I found a chair backed to the thermostat in our bedroom. When I tried to get the device to talk to me, it kept reading “Temporarily, Temporarily, Temporarily,” over and over again. My interpretation is temporary mechanical insanity from young-child exposure. All those little finger manipulations caused the controller to blow a fuse, scream in computer-ese and pop a gusset.

I wasn’t that far off.

The technicians found a popped capacitor.

Advanced technology is no match for a focused three-year-old.

I was just able to reach the back bedroom without a safety line. The thermostat has stopped reading “Temporarily” and appears at ease. I didn’t have the heart to tell it the children are back again tomorrow night.

Why am I seeing images in the thermostat’s head from the “Gremlins” movie?

Well, there’s always air in the car, if things go south.

I’ll fill up before the kids arrive.

Just in case.

Grandpa Jim