I grew up in a cold household. I can never remember our house being a toasty 70 degrees. The thermostat barely inched above 62 degrees and we always seemed to be huddled under afghans on the couch. If we complained about being cold, my dad told us to put on a sweater. If we still complained about being cold, he'd tell us the dishwater was nice and warm and to stick our hands in it and wash some dishes and we wouldn't be cold anymore. Fast Forward 20 years...here I am, in my own home, and the battle of the thermostat continues...
Every night Mr. Allan's handy dandy weather center lets us know how cold it is outside...and then that temperature in the middle is how cold it is inside.
That's right..it was a balmy 60 degrees in the Allan household last night. Sadly, it's somewhat the norm. If I complain that I'm cold, Mr. Allan tells me to do 15 jumping jacks and if I'm still cold after that, he'll turn up the heat.
So, you must probably be asking the question...if it's so cold outside, why don't I just turn up the heat? The answer...because we have a super ninja mastermind like Yoda digital thermostat that's programmed to raise the heat for an hour in the morning and 3 hours in the evening courtesy of my husband.
Maybe I don't wager too big of a war over this because I'm used to a cold household or we're not breaking the bank with heat bills but mostly I think it's the little reminders and glimpses of my dad that I now see in my husband...even if it means flannel sheets on the bed at all times and no exposed extremities.