Stories

Hot Butt

The summers in Izmir are steaming hot as only a coastal town off the Aegean can be. Situated around a long bay, well off of the actual coast, Izmir only gets relief as the Imbat, northern winds, and the Lodos, southern winds, stir through the city streets, kicking up sand, soot, and salt, mixing the competing smells of restaurants, automobiles, the bay, and horses.

It takes a while to get used to the heat and the smells.

When Kady and I brought the kids over for the Summer of 1985, Jay was almost three, and E was only four months old.

That's right, Kim flew to Turkey with a three-year-old toddler and an infant on five aircraft, taking about forty-eight hours. 

Three months later, she returned to the United States alone with the kids. She was and still is a Hero!

Kady never complained about the heat or walking everywhere we went in the city. If I could find her a burger, she would be happy for a stroll.

Jay and E could have been anywhere; they were happy little American Kids.

The Turks loved my kids. We couldn't go anywhere without the Turks stopping us to pinch their cheeks, coo at them, hold them, and, this was always the funniest, cover E up.

The days were so hot that E lived in diapers and a little diaper cover. Jay wore shorts and a sleeveless shirt.

Turks bundle their babies up in blankets no matter how hot. Turk ladies that we met were hell-bent on wrapping E up like a burrito.

On one of these days, walking from the PX on Neveres Boulevard toward Ataturk Circle, Kady was leading, pushing E along in her eight-wheeled umbrella stroller. I was in charge of keeping Jay safe. I held his hand so he couldn't dart into the crazy Turkish traffic.

I noticed Jay lagging a little behind but thought nothing of it until I saw the Turks across the Boulevard pointing and laughing. My first thought was that they were more Jay and E-loving Turks until everyone up and down Neveres began laughing and pointing.

I turned back to look at Jay. He had pulled his pants down to his knees and was walking along in all his glory.

As I knelt to pull up his "big boy pants" and shorts, I asked, "Buddy, why are your pants down?"

"My butt was hot, Daddy."

I stood, looked over at the Turks, and shrugged my shoulders. "Hava çok sıcak," I said to those who could hear. That brought more smiles, laughter, and approving pats on Jay's head from the men.

Yes, the weather was Very Hot.