Miles slept in a little on Monday morning. Until 8:30. Which was glorious. I got him up and dressed, and decided we should play outside after breakfast.
We walked out the door at 9:30. It was already 87 degrees, and the humidity was so high you could chew the air. Miles puttered around the patio for all of five minutes, before climbing the steps, knocking on the door, and saying, "In. Hot." Repeatedly. Until I gave in.
He refused to step outside for the rest of the day. Anytime I would try to take him out to play, he would cross his arms, and stubbornly insist, "Hot. Uh-uh."
We're never going to survive summer.