The heat in Hillmomba is oppressive. When I change my new baby, aka D'Hummi the dehumidifier, I can feel how truly hot it is. Because unless I have to make a trip to The Devil's Playground, I generally stay inside the Mansion. In my cool basement lair.
D'Hummi has been crying for two changes per day. That is around noon and midnight. Sometimes, I anticipate D'Hummi's needs before he even knows he's too wet. I push his button, and he has to cry to nobody about my abuse. And he has to hold his water while I have his bucket.
I carry D'Hummi's fluids through Farmer H's basement workshop to the back door. It opens onto a small concrete area with the Free Hairwad Hot Tub on the left, and a trail of flat river rock stepping stones, set in some black gravel, that lead to the wooden stairs to Poolio. Sometimes I step across those stones, and sometimes I dump D'Hummi's effluence onto the black gravel. During the noontime changings, I've noticed a strange phenomenon.
When I pour the water squeezed from the basement atmosphere onto a flat rock, it steams. Like a sauna. It evaporates faster than a chicken can run over and peck it. I appear to be the source of dangerous levels of humidity for an entire tri-county area.
2 comments:
So it's YOUR fault we are in a bowl full of humidity!
labbie,
Guilty as charged!
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