I come from the land of cold, the kind of cold that turns nipples into deadly weapons. Seriously, I could cut you.
Growing up in Southwestern Michigan, we got bitter winds, huge drifts, and bitter, ugly, raw-knuckled cold, thanks to something charmingly referred to as the Lake Effect. In the morning before school, my mom would turn the oven on and we'd all gather around the open door as we woofed down our Quaker oatmeal packets. After school, I'd hang out with my grandma, sitting over the register doing crossword puzzles on a tv tray while the coal heat warmed my feet. At night, the hot-water heater never managed to provide enough steamy water to keep the tub warm for very long. So mom would heat up water on the stove and pour boiling water into my tepid bath so I could stay in a bit longer.
That is love.
I moved away from sub-zero temperatures to the temperate climate of Seattle. My hot-water heater lets me top off my tub when it starts to cool down. The scalding water never runs out when I am in the shower. Heaven.
What's not exactly sent from above is the feeling I get when I step out of a hot shower. I may not live in the Midwest but no matter how much I close off the doors and windows to trap the steam in the bathroom, it's still a figurative cold bucket of water on my shower bliss when my pink heated skin meets the cold air. Even with my towel and robe draped nearby, the rosy glow of the shower fades as my aforementioned nipples become menacing and I get figuratively if not literally steamed. My fogged-up bathroom may not be as cold as a witch's tit (an oft-used phrase by my colorful stepfather), but it's decidedly cooler than the hot spray I was just under. Since I don't presently have radiant floors, a heated towel rack or a man to drape around my shoulders, I linger in the shower, making up new excuses to never get out. "My legs could probably use to be shaved twice," "Now that my muscles are heated, I should really do some stretches in here," "Is there such a thing as too much exfoliation?" "It's okay to be a little late to work today." The list goes on, as does my shower. The alternative leaves me cold.