The FedEx guy wasn’t surprised that I kissed him. He’d been delivering a/c units all over town, and his lips were starting to get chapped. I would have kissed him again when he unloaded the second unit, but strangely, he dumped it and ran.
Installation was surprisingly easy–so easy even I figured it out. The Boy did the honors by plugging Chilly in. BLAST…of…COLD…AIR!!! I was about to lead all the kids in a dance around Chilly, but remembering the Bean’s aptitude for clumsiness, I didn’t want to risk anything happening to Chilly. Er, I mean Beanie. I didn’t want anything to happen to Beanie.
My tagline for Millie has been: “She’s old, she’s crusty, but she’s all mine.” My new tagline is, “Millie: she’s old, she’s crusty, she’s jealous, she crafty, she tolerates me and Chilly, but don’t push her too far or she will pop a fuse.” Hubs and I found this out the hard way. After lugging Chilly II up the stairs, (by the way, the stairs–by the time you get to the 15th riser, you really feel like you should have been at the top already, but you have five more risers to go) and setting her up in our bedroom, he plugged her in. BLAST…of…COLD…AIR!!! For five blissful minutes, we had a/c on two floors. Then…POP! Millie wanted us to experience life as it was when she was new in 1900 so we would stop whining about the heat. No computer, no TV, no fridge, no new-to-me stove. Hubs had to run down to the basement…in the DARK…to flip the breaker. I am so glad chivalry isn’t entirely dead.
So, we camped out in the living room surrounded by wafts of cold air from our faithful Chilly I. Cool.