How you can know if you’re a ‘hot’ parent in Arizona

Karina Bland is on vacation. A version of this column originally ran Aug. 20, 2015. First of two parts.

You really don’t ever get used to triple-digit heat, no matter how long you live here. I mean, you eventually think 100 degrees isn’t that hot, and you’re no longer surprised when hot water comes out of the cold tap. You adapt.

You grocery shop at 10 p.m.

You learn to drive with only two fingers on a searing steering wheel.

If you’re a parent, you figure out how to raise your children in this heat.

You do what works, no matter how unconventional. Living here lends itself to a distinctive parenting style. If you’re a mom or dad in Arizona, you know you do these things.

You know you’re an Arizona parent if: You serve popsicles for breakfast. Hey, they’re fruit.

You go to the movies before 10 a.m. It doesn’t matter what’s playing; theaters are always cold. One summer, our air conditioning conked out. We saw “Hoodwinked” twice in two days.

You don’t yell at your kids for standing in front of open refrigerator door.

Nudge over; Mommy wants to get in there, too.

You keep aloe vera lotion in the refrigerator next to the ketchup.

And hope no one mistakes it for salad dressing.

You haven’t cooked a hot meal since the end of May.

You want cookies? Bake them on the dashboard of the minivan.

Your child falls asleep on the tile floor, and you leave him there.

Hey, it’s maybe the coolest place to nap. You, meanwhile, sleep spread-eagle directly under the ceiling fan

You have scheduled play dates for after dark.

“Are we vampires, Mom?” my son Sawyer once asked me when he was 6. No, son, it’s just that it’s safer to play outside when it’s under 105.