A Short Midwesterner in Shorts

I am wearing shorts.

I know that may not seem like an exciting statement -- certainly not something to blog about -- but I am from the north. I am from the land of snowpiles the size of mountains, ice skating, and being able to see your breath from October to April.

So when Oesa told me that it was going to be a high of 77 today, I pulled out my shorts with a flourish. Sid rolled his eyes. He must've forgotten during these years in Florida some of the biggest joys of being a Midwesterner:

• getting worked up over the weather
• talking about winter with a heavy dose of pride
• drawing attention to the first time you get to wear shorts

But let's face it: my body is not "shorts ready." My legs have not seen the sun since September 13.

I mean the kind of sun that can give you a tan. The sun does shine in Illinois during the winter.

Just the other day, I had to wear my sunglasses while driving to work, something that always throws me off because sunglasses should not be worn with stocking caps. But I needed both last Thursday morning, so as I often do in winter, I reminded myself that I am not a fashion model. When it's cold, staying warm trumps looking cool and that's why the parka was invented.

Today, though --today I am wearing shorts, and I think I look cool.