Despite my son being born in the summertime, he far prefers winter. He loves snow. He loves the cold. We went, a few years back, to Berlin during the Christmas holiday and my son was greatly delighted. While I walked around with three pairs of wool socks on, he almost skipped about in the deep snow. He loved how cold it was. I tried to keep as warm as possible. I lovevthe heat. Need it.
Today in New York it was close to 90 degrees. My son, surprisingly, wanted to go shopping. And, that we did. I was ecstatic that my 11 year old boy wanted to go shopping. He wanted video games. I wanted shoes. Not many stores could serve us both. Thus, we walked into many stores and walked and walked. Even though he was born in New York he does not like walking. His attitude is more like that of a Californian. He prefers a car and to be driven. I, on the other hand, have never had a driver’s license.
As we walked around shopping, my son started to tire. He found the weather to be too hot. He was sweating and tired. And, although he loves pizza, I couldn’t get him to agree to sit at an outside restaurant to enjoy a nice Italian brunch. He noted that there was no air conditioning. He whined. He complained. He was pouty. He was, as I note, sungry. Instead of being hangry, he was getting irked by the sun. The heat was making him a bit cranky. Thus, sungry.
It’s a real thing. He was letting the heat turn his usual sunny disposition into an irritated little boy. I was left wondering how the sun, which I love, could leave my son so cold (sort of speak).