Brad and I have gotten soft.
We both grew up weather hearty in Wisconsin, home of the sub-zero temperatures and waist-high snowbanks. Many years, there was snow already on the ground on Halloween and I would have to squeeze my costume over my winter coat to go trick-or-treating.
Then we moved to Pittsburgh, where we lived in an old apartment building with no insulation while Brad was in law school. We were living off my paltry income, so we could not afford to turn on our heat until at least December. We bundled up in layers (including hats and scarves), slept with a space heater in our room, and dealt with it.
I'm sure you see where this is going. We turned our heat on this week. The low temperatures were still in the 40s and we caved.
"It's too warm in here! I'm going to turn the heat down to 70!" I said the other night.
Who am I?