Baby, it’s Cold as the Dickens Outside!

26 degrees. Fahrenheit.

That’s how cold it was this morning when I took Miles out.

Now I can safely say it’s cold as the dickens!

🥶

Granted, I did take him out at 5:30 a.m., so it’s warmed up a bit since then.

Now it’s 28 degrees! 🌞

I was bitching all Summer about how hot and humid it was, and how I couldn’t wait for cooler weather.

Yeah, yeah, “be careful what you wish for” and all that crap.

It’s not quite my-girlfriend-broke-up-with-me-via-text cold, or Tom-Landry-cut-me-because-I-missed-one-blocking-assignment cold.

Still, if it’s below freezing, then it’s too cold.

If the McRib is back, then it’s too cold.

If my wife, who hails from Cleveland, says it’s cold, then it’s TOO COLD.

It always irritates me when people move down here (here being N.C.) from up north and make fun of us bumpkins for how we handle the cold (my wife is an exception, because despite the fact that she’s from Ohio, she doesn’t tease me when it gets cold).

Come Winter, I’m guaranteed to hear this at least once:

“Man, it’s not cold!”

“You guys freak out over an inch of snow?!”

“I’m out here in a t-shirt and flip-flops, not a damn coat!”

You know, if y’all spent as much time not running your home states into the ground as you do bragging about how much cold you can handle, then maybe you wouldn’t have had to move here in the first place? Maybe?

So can that shit and put it back on the shelf.

Except for you, wifey 😊.

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