Every couple I’ve ever known, of every combination of people, has a hot one and a cold one.
This isn’t about looks, but about reactions to temperature. Every couple has one person who always thinks it’s on the cool side, while the other always thinks it’s on the warm side. The cold person wants to turn up the thermostat in summer, still sleeps under three blankets in July, wears layers consistently through August. Meanwhile the warm person kicks aside all the blankets except maybe the sheet, aims a fan at themselves while sleeping, and will wear exactly the right amount of clothes to keep from getting arrested for indecent exposure and not one layer more.
Conversely, in winter time, the cool person is in their element! They are comfortable most of the time and always feel fine with a light amount of clothes on, unless maybe it gets really arctic in January. This person might even wear shorts in winter and longs for the cool nights of late September and October, often trying to get their partner to let them leave the bedroom window overnight well into November. Meanwhile, the cold one? They’re unhappy, temperature-wise, from that same late September all the way to April. They will huddle under blankets while watching teevee in the living room, they will wear handwarmers and fingerless gloves while working inside in December, they will plot trips to Florida and warmer climes, and it will seem like soup is on the menu each and every time it’s their turn to make dinner.
One or the other.
Some of these depictions may seem extreme, but I know couples even more extreme than what I’ve outlined here.
Which one are you?
Here at Casa Jaquandor, I used to be Hot One while The Wife always used to be the Cold One. She’d be hankering the close the windows in October, while I’d be the one who spent the entirety of July in heat-related misery. She’d be the cold one in February, never venturing outside unless it was under the protection of a giant coat, where I’d usually just put on a t-shirt and thick sweater under my trusty overalls and call it a day.
And now, recently, we’ve switched places.
I’m not entirely sure when this started, but it’s been going on roughly a year now. I haven’t shifted quite as strongly as she has, but there are often times now when I’ll be feeling slightly chilly and she announces it’s too warm inside. She puts up a lot less argument about me running the fan at night or having the central air going in the hotter days of summer; we’ve even had a few days so far this year where we have the windows open and the air is turned off and she comes into the room I’m in and asks, “Wow, are you really not turning the air on? I figured you’d be miserable!”
And it’s not just her! Time was when I’d go from, say, Memorial Day to Labor Day and only wear overalls a handful of times. Now? Well, as I write this it’s in the upper 70s and I’m wearing a long-sleeve t-shirt under blue denim overalls. And earlier I walked the dogs! So far this summer I’ve barely worn shorts. This blows my mind. It’s not just that my tolerance for heat has improved; I’ve found that long sleeves versus short sleeves doesn’t really make a difference in my degree of misery from the heat, and I’m kind of finding that long pants versus short pants isn’t much of a factor either. Plus, overalls aren’t belted so there’s more internal air flow, I guess is a nice way to phrase it. Now, I’m not going crazy here: I won’t be wearing flannel or any of my denim shirts any time soon, and the summer is young and climate change is going to have its way with us. July is just beginning, and in my heat-hating days, July was always my least favorite month of the year. We’re due to attend the Sterling Renaissance Festival in three weeks; I’d love to be able to wear overalls with one of my poofy Renfest shirts (which are made of really light fabric) to the Faire, which is located on the side of a forested hill. We’ve only gone there once when it was well-and-truly sweltering, so…we’ll see. Fingers crossed! (And also for rocking overalls at the County Fair in August.)
Meanwhile, as I write this, The Wife is upstairs in bed, under the blankets, watching something on Netflix. (Oh, she’s recovering from a minor surgical procedure on her foot from a week ago. Nothing horrible, just tendonitis that wasn’t going to heal without surgery.) Earlier I indicated that it might get warm enough later in the afternoon to warrant turning on the A/C; she responded, “We’re not there now?!”
How about you all? Is there a Hot One and a Cold One in your relationship? And have you ever flipped the poles, as it were?