My wife and I were going to Springfield, Tennessee to visit
our grandchildren. That’s right, not our
daughter, but our grandchildren. Not
that I don’t love our daughter and son-in law.
If you are a grandparent, you know what I mean. If you aren’t, just wait a few decades. Anyway, I was driving, and my wife was on her
phone looking at the weather. She said,
“In Springfield, it is 48° and feels like 45°.”
But I said, “I know what they mean, but that just isn’t right. If it feels like 45°, why isn’t it 45°?” Kathy shrugged, “That’s just the way it
is. And in Ringgold, it is 52° and feels
like 50°.” I was about to protest but
then I caught on. I said, “Oh, I get
it. So when you are on the couch, and
you’re covered up and say, ‘I’m cold,’ and I look at the thermostat and say
it’s 72°, you feel like it’s 65°.
Right?” She smiled sheepishly and
said, “Right.” Hmmm. It’s all in the way you look at it.
No comments:
Post a Comment