Bad attitude

I've been pretty grumpy since burning my belly while canning tomatoes.  I'm on antibiotics that won't allow me to go outside in the sun, so I feel like a prisoner.  I sneak out at sunrise and sunset when there's little risk of sunburn.  It totally sucks, for this woman who hates being stuck inside.  
I needed to get Bonnie's almost-yearling calf, Max, into the barn so he'd be ready to load and take to the butcher shop tomorrow morning.  
At 7:30 P.M., I decided it was safe to go outside.  
The heat was horrible, and as I headed out the front door, I said to Cliff, "I hate heat!"  
Cliff, being hard of hearing, asked what I said and I repeated it, and added, "... and I hate that I burned my belly canning tomatoes, and I hate that I'm on antibiotics that won't let me go outside all day!"  
With that, I slammed the door.  
I put Max in the stall and went to the garden.  I found onions, cucumbers, and okra ready, and picked all of that.  I looked at all the tomatoes turning red.  I turned on the soaker hose.    
I came in the back door and said to Cliff, "Our cup runneth over; I love gardening.  Oh, and I love air conditioning."  
"Damn," says Cliff.  "You need to use that back door all the time.  From now on, I don't ever want to see you using the front door."