Last time, I mentioned that the Mild Wife and I decided to honeymoon in snowy Montreal. We ended up choosing it over much sunnier places, but we figured we'd still have a pretty good time. After all, we were heading out on our honeymoon, and we both like a good adventure. This one would just be a tad colder than some of our previous adventures.
Well, that was basically the attitude, with one slight exception. The Mild Wife was concerned about the state of my outerwear. You see, I have never lived in a city or town that experiences snow, hail, sleet, or any of the other words that mean "it's cold up in here." So while I understand what "cold" means on an intellectual level, I've never actually lived through it. More specifically, I've never had to bundle up and protect myself against that kind of weather.
So, we went shopping.
I would only learn this after the fact, but it was an exercise in frustration for the Mild Wife. She has lived through an actual winter, so she knew roughly what I would need: a long jacket that covered a good portion of my body, with a hood, lined to keep me insulated, and preferably thick enough to keep the worst of it at bay.
I, however, kept veering towards my natural inclination: something sleeker that wouldn't be too bulky. I've never actually needed that bulk in a winter coat, so I've always viewed that as a hindrance rather than a strength. Sure, I made sure to look for things that were well-lined and very warm, but the Mild Wife would later tell me that I kept vetoing every single piece of outerwear that even remotely resembled a winter coat.
In hindsight, the story gets even funnier because all of our mutual friends who have lived on the East Coast commented how important a winter coat would be. The fact that they kept calling it a "coat" rather than a "jacket" was almost completely lost on me. I just figured that was East Coast talk for "a jacket you wear in the winter."
Eventually, though, we were saved because we realized I had an actual winter coat tucked away in a closet. I'd worn it once to Colorado during the winter time, so we knew it could handle the cold. I packed it for our trip, and there was a palpable sense of relief from the Mild Wife.
As soon as we arrived at our destination, I realized that I felt pretty comfortable in my heavy coat. It wasn't so much that I knew right away that the Mild Wife had been right, it was more that I didn't worry so much about the cold. Sure, I had to put on gloves and a scarf, but I generally didn't worry about being cold when we were out. I had a good winter coat, and it handled the rest for me.
So, yes, I am glad to say that the Mild Wife pushed me towards an actual winter coat. I just found the whole process amusing. Heck, I may even look for a new coat for the next time we go to a cold climate. I'll just have to ask the Mild Wife for help, so I don't accidentally pick out a plain old jacket again.
Well, that was basically the attitude, with one slight exception. The Mild Wife was concerned about the state of my outerwear. You see, I have never lived in a city or town that experiences snow, hail, sleet, or any of the other words that mean "it's cold up in here." So while I understand what "cold" means on an intellectual level, I've never actually lived through it. More specifically, I've never had to bundle up and protect myself against that kind of weather.
So, we went shopping.
I would only learn this after the fact, but it was an exercise in frustration for the Mild Wife. She has lived through an actual winter, so she knew roughly what I would need: a long jacket that covered a good portion of my body, with a hood, lined to keep me insulated, and preferably thick enough to keep the worst of it at bay.
I, however, kept veering towards my natural inclination: something sleeker that wouldn't be too bulky. I've never actually needed that bulk in a winter coat, so I've always viewed that as a hindrance rather than a strength. Sure, I made sure to look for things that were well-lined and very warm, but the Mild Wife would later tell me that I kept vetoing every single piece of outerwear that even remotely resembled a winter coat.
In hindsight, the story gets even funnier because all of our mutual friends who have lived on the East Coast commented how important a winter coat would be. The fact that they kept calling it a "coat" rather than a "jacket" was almost completely lost on me. I just figured that was East Coast talk for "a jacket you wear in the winter."
Eventually, though, we were saved because we realized I had an actual winter coat tucked away in a closet. I'd worn it once to Colorado during the winter time, so we knew it could handle the cold. I packed it for our trip, and there was a palpable sense of relief from the Mild Wife.
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| Pictured: Me wearing a winter coat. In Montreal. |
As soon as we arrived at our destination, I realized that I felt pretty comfortable in my heavy coat. It wasn't so much that I knew right away that the Mild Wife had been right, it was more that I didn't worry so much about the cold. Sure, I had to put on gloves and a scarf, but I generally didn't worry about being cold when we were out. I had a good winter coat, and it handled the rest for me.
So, yes, I am glad to say that the Mild Wife pushed me towards an actual winter coat. I just found the whole process amusing. Heck, I may even look for a new coat for the next time we go to a cold climate. I'll just have to ask the Mild Wife for help, so I don't accidentally pick out a plain old jacket again.
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