Ice Princess

There are two types of people in the world. The ones who are always freezing, and the ones who could single-handedly melt polar icecaps.

Fortunately or unfortunately, I'm in the former group. My core temperature borders on cryogenic. I'm talking Jack London cold! And it doesn't really seem to matter how much fleece, wool, Gore-Tex, or waffle-weave cotton I wear. I could dress like the sta-puff marshmallow man dead summer in Miami, and probably still whine about needing thicker mittens.

The joke in my house is that I actually died 3 years ago.

I used to drink extra coffee to keep warm, but discovered that caffeine shakes and shivering can occasionally hit the same resonant frequency. This tended to knock me out of my chair. I was eventually forced to switch to decaf, which is too vile to drink, but in a ceramic mug makes a nice hand-warmer.

The only time I recall ever feeling comfortably warm was in my 3^rd trimester(s) when normal women are usually sweating puddles. Ahhhhhhhh! It was lovely. One sweater and I was set! But then I popped those suckers out, and the old core plunged as I could only dream my weight would.

My husband, on the other hand, is of the hot-blooded Italian variety. He flirts with spontaneous human combustion on a daily basis (which is why he should be THANKING me for stealing all the covers!) Once, when I asked him if he was, by any chance, cold - he looked at me as if I'd asked him what year it was.

You see, as a means to propagate the species, Nature invariably matches up "temperature opposites." This is because when two hot-blooded folks attempt to mate and have children, the kid usually evaporates before it's born. And a pair of human Popsicles rarely are able to conceive in the first place, on account of the fear that intimate contact might cause somebody's FEET to graze the other, causing frostbite or possible death.

So given that opposites attract, you can pretty much guarantee that there's going to be thermostat wars in any household. It didn't used to be so complicated in the olden days, when heating the house involved fire and an axe, but with the advent of "the little dial," opponents are more equitably matched. I'm surprised that in pre-marital counseling they don't address this subject. Or maybe I was busy playing footsie under the table at the time…

Gauging from an officially conducted poll involving 5 of my friends, thermostat disagreements are the number three cause of husbands sleeping on the couch, after sports-watching and refusing to buy tampons. Unfortunately, I can't afford to do without my "human space heater" all that often.

My only hope, it seems, is menopause. I hear you get hot flashes! I figure it's only, what? 15? 20 years off? I can hardly wait!