For those of you who have been to my house, you know that Spencer and I keep the house a tad warmer than a meat freezer. We like a cold house. We sleep better. My thermostat is set around 68 degrees 365 days a year. If I get cold, I put on socks and a long-sleeved shirt. I hardly ever EVER adjust the thermostat.
One main reason I like the house so cold is that I grew up with my dad who also likes a cold house. I woke up one winter morning and there was ice forming on the INSIDE of my bedroom window. I would have about 6 blankets on my bed and a cold room and was in pure heaven.
A few Saturdays ago, Spencer and I were sitting in the den and noticed that we were both getting a little warm. So, while we never looked at the thermostat - because we never touch it, we changed clothes into cooler stuff, took off socks, etc. But were still warm and getting hot.
We had both forgotten that Mary Emma got up before us that morning. She is at that heavenly age where she can get herself up, fix herself a bowl of cereal, turn on the TV, and chill out before the little girls get up and we all have to get up. Apparently, she got cold, because this is what we discovered.
Yes, that's the thermostat set a little higher than 95.Degrees.Farenheit.
Um, yeah. No wonder she wasn't cold anymore.
I'm thinking about putting one of those clear lockable boxes on the thermostat like they have in gyms. Maybe that'll keep "Miss Too Smart For My Own Good" from setting the place ablaze again.