“They said it’s going to be really cold again today,” my mother says as I shuffle puffy-eyed to the kitchen and the coffeemaker after a long night wrestling with the Staffie over the bedcovers. Asleep with amazing determination, he’s a 350-pound dead weight.
Still sleepy and slow-brained, I stop. “It was cold yesterday?”
“Well, all that wind,” Mom says.
“Ah,” I say. It reached the low 70s in Santa Fe yesterday, with an occasional cool, gusty wind. It was perfect and refreshing. My cold-blooded mother and sister complained bitterly about the cold all day long.
We’re a family of opposites.
Update: Erk. Sister corrects me: Rocky is a Bull Terrier, not a Staffordshire. Her OTHER dog is a Staffie. She also assures me vehemently that it did not reach the 70s yesterday. ;o)