HE SAID WHAT?!
Posted By Alex
The following is a true story but before I begin, a little fact about myself. I am lazy. When I am lazy about doing something around the house, I will tell you that I don’t want to do it—because I am lazy. I won’t make any other excuse to justify my being lazy other than the fact that, shit, I don’t want to get the fuck up.
About two weeks ago, we were watching some football when Wendy got up to prepare our dinner (we were having turkey burgers). Right before she headed off to the kitchen, she stopped by the thermostat to turn the heater on. As she was preparing the burgers, she asked me if I want to grill them on our grill. To which I replied, “Hell no, it’s too cold outside.” Her response? “It’s not THAT cold.”
“Seriously? Because you just turned the goddamn heater on and you’re inside the freakin’ house!” I told her incredulously. “Well, it’s not,” she said. A few days later, she told me that she thought I was just being lazy but was blaming it on the cold weather instead. I was not because there have been a few times during the summer when she wanted me to barbeque and I simply said no because I was feeling super lazy.
In our area, the weather is pretty moderate. Yes, it gets cold but not like, say, Massachusetts where their winter highs are 15 degrees. Here, highs during the day are never below the 30s and even those are rare. So at night, when the weather dips below 45, I know that this calls for some backup in the form of our heater. During those cold months, as many of you know, the heater tends to dramatically drive up your energy costs. So when the weather outside is about 50-55 degrees I know that we won’t need our heater at all that night. Wendy, though, says otherwise and uses her cold nose to prove that she’s right. Because her nose basically acts as the weather man for her body.
Shut up, nose! It’s 55 degrees outside and the heater is completely unnecessary! You might think I’m being stingy about the heater but truly, I am not. I hate being cold as much as anyone else. Ask Wendy if I went outside when it was 22 degrees at 12:00 PM on the east coast last year. There was no way she was getting me off the heater vent I was sitting on. It was warm like pee.
So whenever the weather outside is a nice 55-60 degrees and Wendy asks me to touch her nose because she’s cold and about to turn the heater on, I give her nose the evil squirrel look. You know the one:
SHE SAID WHAT?!
Posted By Wendy
A little fact about my husband. When I say it’s cold outside, he—instead of opening up the door and seeing how it feels outside—checks his friggin’ phone. He’ll say, “No, it’s not cold outside. It’s 55 degrees out.” And I’ll say, “Okay, it’s not 55 degrees out. I was just out there. It’s colder than that.” His reply?
“Babe, it’s 55 degrees! Watch, I’ll check weather.com.”
Alex’s little story about the turkey burgers is true. And although I still believe he was being lazy (we’ve used our grill a total of five times, and three of them were when someone else was behind the grill), I will also argue that there’s a difference between being cold outside and being cold inside. Fifty-five degrees outside is warm. Fifty-five degrees inside is cold. Why? Because outside you wear a jacket, some layers, maybe even a scarf if you’re a wuss. You are outside for maybe 10 minutes when you grill a couple of turkey burgers. However, no one wants to wear a jacket and a bunch of layers inside. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to be comfortable in my own home. I want to bum around in a T-shirt and not feel like my nipples will cut glass.
I’m from the east coast and I lived through 26 years of cold-ass-motherfucking winters. I walked a mile in snow and wind to the train every morning to get to work in New York City. In Massachusetts, I started my car 10 minutes before I got behind the wheel to thaw out the ice on the windshield. I hated it, but I learned something from it. What did I learn? That 55 degrees OUTSIDE is not cold. When I came indoors from 15 degree weather, you know what temperature I had my thermostat set to? Seventy degrees. Because that is a comfortable INDOOR temperature.
I understand wanting to save on the energy bills. I agree with Alex’s stance on turning off lights and TV when you’re not using them, not falling asleep with any electronics running, etc. But we don’t get a lot of natural light in the house and our floors are cold, hard travertine tile. It’s usually not a whole lot warmer inside than it is outside. At the end of the day, Alex runs really warm and I run cold. What he may consider comfortable inside feels like an icebox to me.
When I tell Alex to feel my nose it’s to demonstrate that my freaking extremities are cold. It’s not just my nose, it’s my fingers and my toes. I’m wrapped up like a burrito on the couch and he doesn’t want to turn on the heat. Meanwhile, he wonders why I don’t wear sexy lingerie to bed. Well, I’ll be hanging out in my boner-killer flannels until he makes it nice and toasty inside.