Old Man Winter

The Man has officially become Old Man Winter.
He complains about it. He bemoans the lack on 100 degree days and the need for sunscreen.
He belly aches about how cold it is when Oklahoma hasn't seen anything yet.
And I keep reminding him that he's lived here steaidly for fifteen plus years, and sporadically off and on before that. I tell him that, as a 42 years old man, he should know that it gets cold in OK in the winter.
I tell him to get over it.
But he continues.
And now my oldest heathen is following suit, so I have the Old Man and the Mini Me version in my house.
I like the cold. I like to turn on the heat, sip hot tea, and snuggle under blankets. I love warmy fuzzy socks and jammies. I like to watch snow fall and feel the quiet it brings with it.
I'll admit, I do not like power outages and icy roads, but I'm a give and take kind of gal, so I take the good and the bad.
I do not like stepping out of my house and immediately breaking into a sweat. I do not like air so thick you can't draw a good breath no matter how hard you try.
I don't like worrying about sunburns and heatstroke and fleas and ticks and all those other problems we have in OK in the summer.
I'm a winter woman married to a summer soldier.
We've agreed we need to move somplace where its always in the 70's.
But even then it still wouldn't be hot enough for him and cold enough for me.