When Furnace Meets Fan

I’ve heard it said that you should date someone for a year before considering marriage so that you can know what they’re like in every season. After being married for almost two years, I must say there is some wisdom to this idea. But here are some additional things to consider:

1. Is my spouse a furnace disguised as a human?
2. Will the human furnace reject all blankets?
3. Is the human furnace consistently hot throughout all the Ohio seasons?

These are the things I wish I could have found out about The Husband ahead of time.

“Wait, Ohio seasons? What are those?” you ask.

Not from the Buckeye state, eh? Well let me explain to you what it’s like. On paper, we have four seasons. But we experience them a little differently than what you might expect.

The first season is Ohio winter. It generally ranges anywhere from one to six months. Temperatures can be anywhere from subzero — the dreaded Polar Vortex — to the 70’s. (No, that’s not a typo. Ohio winter is extremely indecisive.) Snowfall can range anywhere from none to the kind of light dusting that makes you wonder if it’s actually snowing or if someone just spilled some dancing powdered sugar on the road to apocalyptic levels of ice age madness. Warmer clothes are recommended, but shorts and tee shirts are still acceptable.

The second season is Ohio spring. This season exists only on paper. The time allotted to Ohio spring (March through May-ish) generally manifests itself in one of two ways. We either get Ohio winter Part Two: Return of The Snow. (Actually, about 90% of all snow falls during Ohio spring. And that’s when you’re more likely to see the Wrath of God, Ice Age type snow.) Or we get a preview of Ohio summer.

Ohio summer, the third season, is my favorite. We have sunlight most of the time. And it’s Ohio hot. What is Ohio hot, you ask? You might look at a thermometer and think — 90 degrees? That’s not too bad. Those of you coming from desert areas might call me a wimp for thinking that’s hot. But what makes it Ohio hot is the humidity. SO. MUCH. HUMIDITY. Imagine walking out your door and having a bunch of teenage hooligans drive by blaring obnoxious music and throwing a barrel of water in your face. You might think, “well that sounds refreshing.” NO. This is not normal water that the teenage hooligans throw in your face. This is sticky, warm, gooey, slime-like water.

Then the teenage hooligans jump in a helicopter and dump barrels of water from above. Then they just keep driving behind you, spraying you with squirt guns, ALL. DAY. LONG. You go from looking put together and camera ready (that is if you care about actually looking put together) to looking like a drowned rat in about ten seconds. Then you head inside for some relief and realize you’ve entered an ice palace. A strong gust of air conditioning hits your face. At first it feels great. But then you feel the sweat crystallizing on your skin. You realize you are becoming a human popsicle and you worry you might shatter into a million pieces if someone bumps into you. So you go back outside to warm up after the arctic blast and the teenage hooligans resume their water assault, so you go back inside to escape from them, and then you freeze, and then you go back outside…you get the picture. Lather, rinse, repeat. That’s Ohio hot, ladies and gentlemen.

So why is this my favorite season, you ask? Because I like having sunlight and wearing as little clothing as possible. As long as I shower frequently to rinse off the humidity sweaty slime goop, I’m good.

Ohio fall is perhaps the most pleasant of all the seasons. The leaves change color, you can walk outside without going into shock…life is good. But no one notices Ohio fall because they’re too busy watching football. But that’s a story for another day.

Anyhoo, back to the original topic. So as you may have guessed, The Husband and I quickly learned that we have vastly different coping strategies for dealing with the Ohio seasons. The Husband, it should be noted, is not from Ohio. He has lived all over the country in a variety of climates, so he’s experienced it all. More importantly, though, I discovered that The Husband is his own climate. He is a human furnace.

We recently discovered just how powerful his furnace tendencies can be. Toward the end of Ohio spring we spent a week visiting his parents in Utah. While there we stayed in a small bedroom in the basement of their house. Said basement was quite cool…until The Husband showed up. There was about a ten degree difference between our bedroom and the basement hallway. Seriously. I had to get a fan for the nightstand to survive the sauna he had created.

Here’s the thing about The Husband’s furnace power though — he DOES NOT KNOW HE IS THIS WARM. When I pointed out the extreme temperature difference he created in the basement, he just shrugged and said he didn’t notice anything. Probably because everywhere he goes he carries with him the fire of a thousand suns. If anyone is brave and/or stupid enough to attempt to make another Fantastic Four movie, please consider casting him as the Human Torch. No CGI will be necessary.

“And what about you? What are your weird seasonal quirks?” you ask.

Well, remember what I said earlier about the never ending battle with the water-throwing teenage hooligans? My strategy seems to be to recreate this conflict at all times. The Husband says I’m always cold all year round, which is probably why I look forward to Ohio summer. But even for an ice princess such as myself, it does sometimes get a little too hot. So I turn on the ceiling fan (in addition to creating an ice palace with the air conditioning). It feels nice. But then I get cold. So I pile on the blankets.

The Husband tries to make helpful suggestions on how I can win this battle. “You know,” he says. “You could wear long pants or something if your legs get cold.”

“I REJECT LONG PANTS!” I yell over the raging noise of the AC.

“Mmmkay,” says The Husband, preparing to try a new approach. “You could also turn off the fan.”

“I NEED THE AIR ON MY FACE!” I yell again.

“But you’re cold,” he says.

Somewhere, deep down, the logical part of my brain understands what he’s trying to say. But logic is not my guiding star during Ohio summer. “I WANT THE MOVING AIR ON MY FACE EVEN IF IT KILLS ME!” I insist, piling on more blankets.

The Husband is slowly learning to give up on logic. And I am slowly starting to accept his furnace power. Overall, I think we balance each other out well. (He has been known to use my hand as a cool compress on his forehead. True story.)

So my advice to all you young lovers out there — spend some time with your significant other in a variety of seasons. It’s good to know what to expect when and if you tie the knot. And if you do decide to get hitched, may I recommend registering for some blankets. Or fans. Or both. Depending on your significant other, you may or may not need to register for a space heater.