I love my grandmother, but I hate going to her house. Since my grandfather passed away, her home is so hot that it makes me itchy. When I get itchy, I get testy, and when I get testy, I am really quick to anger. I really don’t want to go with mom and dad, but they make me feel guilty about not visiting. I end up going, and I know that I will be miserable, and I will end up making everyone else miserable. The last time was different. I walked in the house, and it was so hot that I was instantly beginning to sweat. I saw gran look at the thermostat, but then walked away. I looked at the thermostat and it was reading ninety degrees inside. I could feel the heat blowing out of the air vents, and I thought to myself, how crazy and dangerous this was for her. I remember hearing my dad say that it is so hot in the house, because she is always cold, but I didn’t believe it. It’s not like gran was in her nineties or anything. She was in her early seventies. Gramps had only died a couple of years ago, and he always had the air conditioning on. I checked the thermostat, and I turned the temperature down, wondering if I could cool it off a bit. Gran looked around the corner and smiled when she saw me. She had come out for some lemonade. I turned off the heat, with the thermostat and I set the air conditioning for seventy five. I heard her sigh and she looked at me with tears in her eyes as she told me that she was wondering how to do that.