I told my father I would die of heatstroke without AC

Never before had I heard my father laugh so hard as when I told him I would die of heatstroke without an air conditioner. He informed me that my colleague and I had plenty of cool weather ahead and that he would not yet turn on the air conditioner. It was eighty degrees outside, and it was only mid-May. He informed me that it was not the first time it had been chilly in May, nor will it be the last. Temperatures were expected to return to the sixties until May, and he refused to deal with the air conditioner when my colleague and I required heat at night. In addition to being stubborn, I believed he did not want me to be comfortable. He was not required to wait in their room until their homework was completed. He was not required to sit in a cold home office in addition to preparing family meals. In addition to the fact that he merely had to report to work, I was confident that he would perform his duties without difficulty. I had to tell him how I felt, and all he did was raise an eyebrow in response. He inquired whether I knew what he did. I was aware that he grew flowers. He wanted to know whether I believed the term “hothouse” referred to the presence of a lot of air conditioning or to the need for a warm environment to keep the young plants alive. Perhaps he had a valid point, although I refused to acknowledge what it was. Despite the fact that I hoped he would install at least one air conditioning unit in the window, I knew he had much worse days at work than the few I was complaining about at college and at home. It will hopefully be my window.


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