We had hot summers that required air conditioning intervention, don’t get me wrong, but the air temperatures could never compete with the torturous heat of Florida.
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, and he drops that information every single chance 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, and 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 big dissimilarities is our tolerance for hot temperatures. While he grew up in constant heat and humidity, I hardly had such experiences in my early years. We had hot summers that required air conditioning intervention, don’t get me wrong, but the air temperatures could never compete with the torturous heat of Florida. My husband is essentially unaffected by hot and muggy days, and he snickers at me when I complain and bump up the air conditioning. He’s so used to this terrible air quality that he isn’t even phased when it’s well over 100 degrees outside. We have continual thermostat battles, where I turn the temperature down and 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 hot environment, but I certainly know what it’s like to be frustrated by a hot man!