In my fondly remembered and deliciously wayward youth, steamy windows weren't all that strange, but back then it took more than just my mere presence to cause them. Now all I need to do is sit there. I admit it - the Flamingess has hot flashes! I prefer to call them power surges, but a hot flash by any other name is still a hot flash.
This fogged up window thing isn't as much of an issue when we take the bigger van - more room to dispate the heat I guess. But in the PT Cruiser the defroster runs often, which only compounds my overeheating problem! I have got to figure out how to get in and out of my layers of clothing while strapped into the seat, and do it without punching my DBFA (dearly beloved flamingo assistant, also known as my husband) in the head as I flail around. For some reason, he doesn't find that amusing.
Some nights we are quite the contrast - he is in sweatshirt, fleece pullover and fleece gloves. I am in a t-shirt rding with as much of my skin as possible pressed against the side window.
Foggy windows, sweaty Flamingess, and rainy roads can not keep us from our appointed rounds.
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