Since becoming adjusted to life in the south, I have considered anything below 60 degrees to be cold. This has caused no end of mockery and joking from my loving husband who has an almost pathological aversion to jackets or coats of any kind. When the temperature got its lowest in Georgia Jonathan would break out his gray hoodie while I was bundled in sweater, hoodie, jacket, and scarf. I can count on one hand the number of times Jonathan wore his leather jacket.
In the last two months I have periodically asked Jonathan if he wanted a jacket, as I huddled under multiple layers of clothing covered in my leather jacket and a scarf. The last occurrence was just on Sunday. The children and I were huddling for warmth under our winter clothes and jackets as we crossed the parking lot to church. Jonathan was wearing a short sleeved golf shirt and khakis. I asked him if he was cold, and he looked at me in surprise.
“I’m wearing an under shirt,” he said. As if that answered my question.
This morning Jonathan headed off to school in his work uniform (Tuesday and Thursday he goes straight from school to work) with his coffee mug in his hand. I asked if he had his name tag, his manager swipe card, and his keys. I didn’t ask if he needed a jacket. I thought I knew the answer.
At 10 am I got a call from Jonathan as he crossed campus from Covenant Theology to the library. He said, “Um. I think I’ll need my leather jacket from now on. Do you mind finding it and bringing it upstairs. . . ” (it’s been hanging in the hall closet for three weeks) “. . .because I’m cold. Really cold.”
That makes it official. Jonathan asked for a jacket. It’s winter in Missouri.