Not me: Why is it so cold in here? It's free-e-e-ezing in here!
Me: It's sixty-eight degrees in this house and I am NOT turning the heat up.
Not me: But I'm co-o-o-ld!
Me: Well, put some clothes on! Fuck's sake! You're running around in a teeshirt and underwear in the middle of winter whining about being cold. Those clothes are in your closet for a reason, you know.
(Not me is NOT just the kid; it is also mr. delagar. WTF, say I, is wrong with slippers and a sweatshirt? Not to mention PANTS?)
5 comments:
We keep our house at 64 degrees. For me that means multiple layers of fleece. My husband occasionally puts on a light sweater over his ordinary cotton clothing. We have one of those circulating oil space heaters to warm the bedroom and an unvented gas fireplace to warm the family room. It works. I just ask myself if I prefer the 100 degree weather we get in the summer. My answer is always no. --L
I'm with you on the heat going down; however, this year I've noticed a significant change in my core temperature. Instead of only needing a sweater to go outside, I am using coats, sweaters, gloves, and scarves. I am fucking freezing. Mr. Zelda is loving this change in my temperature, he, like Mr. Delagar, whinned all the time about the cold. Now, we are on the same key, cold as hell.
It amazes me that these "young whippersnappers" cannot take cool houses. They did not have to grow up in a house heated only by one or two coal-grate fireplaces.
Wool coats and blankets and feather beds were a saviour.
Dorki -- yeah, I think so. I grew up outside New Orleans, so we were never really cold -- not like Yankee cold -- but my father kept the house at 64 in the winter and we wore sweatshirts, and slippers, because it was WINTER. (He also kept it at 80 in the summer, but that's some other whine.)
I've had that same conversation with my half-naked husband more times than I can count.
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