Baby, It’s Cold Outside
Even though I grew up up North, I don’t weather the cold well. We’ve only had a few cold days in this area this winter. It’s been a lot milder than usual. Still every time it’s just a little bit cold, I think it’s too cold.
I went to college in Vermont, where some times it snows in April. That is a distant memory to me. At that time it could be freezing and I would hesitate to wear a sweater because I wanted to save my warmest clothes for when it was really cold. Once it was so cold that my car wouldn’t start, and when I went to take my hand off the ignition, my finger was stuck to it. In Vermont at the first hint of spring, I was wearing a summer dress. There’d be a foot of snow still on the ground and boots on my feet, but I was ready for summer.
Now if the temperature dips into the mid seventies, I’m pulling a jacket out of the closet. I get goose bumps from the slightest breeze. “It’ll be 76 degrees tomorrow, I better wear a long sleeved shirt,” I think, planning my outfit for the next day while lying in bed. I didn’t think that thing about your blood thinning if you live in warm climates was true, until I moved to Florida.
My stepson is the opposite. He refuses to wear long sleeves or a jacket in even the coldest weather. I think it’s his way of proving his toughness or something. Well, I have nothing to prove. It’s winter and I’ll be pulling my winter suitcase out of the closet and breaking out the sweaters. I never claimed to be tough.
