Good and so good for you.

Mother, It’s Not Cold

It was a beautiful day. A bit warmer than usual for this time of year, but that made it nicer. And there was Mother with her coat on, stubbornly cold, as usual.

"Mother, it's not cold," I insisted, embarking on yet another iteration of our permanent disagreement.

"Well, it feels cold to me," she answered. "I know how I feel."

"Mother, look at the thermostat, it's seventy-three degrees. That's not cold. Nobody thinks it's cold but you." She pulled her coat about her even tighter as if I hadn't just presented compelling evidence that it truly was warm.



Several weeks later the days had become warmer. The thermostat now read eighty degrees. Mother still had her coat on, and now she sat in the green chair with a blanket around her.

"Mother, how can you be so cold when it's so warm?"

"I know cold when I feel it," she insisted.

"Let me feel your skin." I put my hand on her face. Her skin was cold. "Mother, maybe there's something wrong with you, something wrong with your circulation." I began to worry. At the computer I googled "cold skin" and came up with an alarming list of over sixty possible causes, ranging from anterior pituitary hyperhormonotrophic syndrome to Wernicke's encephalopathy. "Mother, maybe we should get you to a doctor. This could be serious."

"Nonsense," she said. "There's nothing wrong with me. There's something wrong with the temperature, that's all. It's cold."

"No, no," I said. "It's not cold!" I switched to another website on the computer. "Look here, Mother, everyone knows it's warm. Look here, they're saying the whole Earth is now warmer than ever. They're arguing all the time about the cause of this, it's a big issue--"

"Well, we don't have to argue about it," she spoke with finality. "It's cold, that's all." And she went into the other room.


A week later the temperature was in the upper nineties. But when I walked into one of the bedrooms I noticed some new, thick blankets stacked in the corner. That same day a man came with a truck full of wood and stacked it in the backyard. I looked in the closet and discovered new coats made of down, and snow pants, and long underwear.

"Mother, we don't need this stuff, it's hot here, not cold! The thermostat says it's over ninety degrees!"

"I can tell the temperature for myself, just by how it feels," she said. "It's cold."



That night the Earth jolted from its normal pathway around the sun. A shock wave was felt around the whole world, and by morning it was snowing outside. Gaia had played her trick on us all. Except Mother. She knew. Mother was ready.