A Conversation.

December: So you’re really killing ’em, huh? 16 degrees? cold
January: Please. After that 75 degree mumbo jumbo you were pulling, I had to remind those chumps that we’re in winter.

December: Sheesh. Calm down.
January: Don’t tell me to calm down. You had people wearing shorts in wintertime. Shorts! I mean, are you kidding me? In December? Like, how?

December: In case you haven’t noticed, Ms. Obvious Temper Issues, El Nino is really running things. Go yell at him.
January: What is that El Nino business?

December: No idea.
January: Me, either.

End scene.

(Seriously, I had to break out my thermal pantaloons this morning. It really was 16 degrees when I reluctantly opened my eyes this morning, and it’s currently 19 degrees now. So honorable mention to my mother for forcing me to wear those thermal things when I was a little Square Peg, which left an indelible reminder that they would actually keep me blissfully warm when I was a grown-up. Yay for forced under clothing.)

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