Well, we’ve reached That Time Of Year.
Not post-Halloween candy consumption time.
Not Election Day.
Not even pre-Thanksgiving.
Those are all here, but not what I’m talking about.
It’s the Time of Plummeting Temperatures.
It’s about 30 degrees below zero in our house.
I tried to explain this to Dad.
Dad: I don’t think the thermometer even registers that cold.
Me: Of course not, that’s why I came to tell you.
Dad: It’s not that cold.
Me: It absolutely IS that cold.
Dad: Put on a sweatshirt.
Me: I don’t have a sweatshirt rated for sub-zero temperatures.
I opted for a really hot cup of coffee. Which helped some, but not enough.
It’s That time of year.
I thought about calling you to talk about it, but my jaw has frozen shut and my fingers are numb.
I thought about adding another blanket to the pile, but being buried under 17 blankets (and a comforter) seemed excessive.
I thought about getting my ski gear on, but that would involve slithering out from under the blankets, and that seemed unnecessary.
So I’ll continue to shiver. Until I begin to acclimate.
Because it’s THAT time of year.
P.S. AND it’s Election Day. So if you know someone who hasn’t voted, please remind them. It’s THAT important.