Fall has arrived and that means the days of open windows and doors have ended. It also means that the thermostat wars have begun!
I’ve never known a family where everyone has the same temperature needs. There is always someone who is freezing cold and someone who runs hot. It is that way in my house as well.
My husband has been through a lot of health problems this last year. As a result, he has dropped 45 pounds (with zero effort I might add). He is now always cold. I can feel his freezing fingers when I hold his hand. I call him “grandpa hands” and since he is a grandpa, it’s not much of a slight.
I, on the other hand, run hot. I am post-menopausal, diabetic with high numbers, and let’s just say I did NOT drop 45 pounds with zero effort. Even the slightest movement makes me break out in a sweat.
My husband and I will never agree on the correct temperature for our home. What is perfect for one is not great for the other. We have stopped trying to negotiate on this subject. It’s a lost cause. Instead, we sneak the thermostat to our preferred number when the other person isn’t looking.
All day long the poor thermostat is switched from one number to another. I’m surprised it hasn’t stopped working completely.
When I feel my cheeks getting hot and my face starts to glisten, I creep down the hall and turn the temp down. Sometimes I cough to cover up the sound of the buttons. I’m sneaky that way. Then, the next time I walk by, I see the thermostat reads a higher number again.
“Put on a sweater!” I yell. And he yells back, “Put on some shorts!” Really, neither one of us can win.
I do not like being hot. Summer is not my favorite season. A day on a sunny beach is not my idea of a good time. In fact, I always feel ill after being out in the sunshine. I blame my Viking heritage. Give me a cold day, some snow, and a cozy beverage and I am a happy girl.
My husband, on the other hand, could live on a sunny beach (and he has). The second the rain stops he is outside, soaking up the tiniest ray of sunshine. He gets brown as a berry every year while I stay as white as a ghost.
The thing with wars is that both sides think they are right. And really both sides usually have valid points. So how do you negotiate peace? I have a right to be comfortable in my own home, but so does my husband. And that comfort is defined in opposite ways for each of us. So now what?
No amount of talking will ever magically solve this problem. Our needs will always be different.
After years of trying to resolve this issue, my husband and I can at least look at it with humor now. We laugh at our differing styles, and we find the changing numbers on the thermostat to be funny.
We open windows and we shut windows. We put on blankets, and we take them off. I yell that I feel like I am living in a nursing home, and he yells that he’s living in an igloo.
Will we ever agree on the “right” temperature? No, we won’t. But that doesn’t matter anymore. We are different and that will never change. He will always need warmth, and I will always need cool. The point is that this Viking and her beach bum husband have learned to live together.
As the French say, “Viva le difference!” which translates to “Long live the difference”. It is used to celebrate the differences between men and women. And it couldn’t be more appropriate in this situation.
“‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth.” Revelation 3:15-16
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