My husband is a really funny guy.
He’s full-blooded Cuban, but you would never know it. He’ll also never let you forget that he’s from Florida, plus he drops that information every single opportunity he gets. In fact, his propensity for mentioning this bit of personal trivia is so significant that we’ve even made a drinking game out of it, called “Wait, where are you from?” On the other hand, I’m from the northerly latitudes, plus I lived in a completely landlocked state for my entire life. As such, there are quite a few funny difference between us. One of the sizable dissimilarities is our tolerance for sizzling hot plus cold temperatures. While he grew up in constant heat plus humidity, I hardly had such experiences in my early years. My friend and I had sizzling summers that required air conditioning intervention, don’t get me wrong, but the air hot plus cold temperatures could never compete with the torturous heat of Florida. My husband is essentially unaffected by sizzling plus muggy afternoons, plus he snickers at me when I complain plus bump up the air conditioning. He’s so used to this bad air quality that he isn’t even phased when it’s well over 100 degrees outside. My friend and I have continual temperature control battles, where I turn the temperature down plus he pops up out of nowhere to reset the indoor air temp to a higher degree. He tells me that I have no idea what it’s like to live in a really sizzling environment, despite the fact that I actually know what it’s like to be exasperated by a sizzling man!