It's getting cold

Yes, folks, it is getting colder and colder every morning.  I'm reluctant to turn on the heat in my house because once I do, I know I will be tempted to do it every day.  I'm on the equal pay plan with my electricity and gas companies and have built up sizable credits on both.  I'm going to hate seeing them slip away back to zero...I'm not cold, I'm not cold, I'm not cold.

                                                                   IT'S GETTING COLD

Once upon a time, in a tiny, yet quaint cottage, there lived a woman, dog, cat, and a friend named Frankie.  They were a happy little group co-existing with absolute love, contentment, and laughter.

One morning the woman felt the dog stir from under the heaping pile of blankets on the bed.  She turned over on her back and began to feel for the warm, wiry fur.

All of a sudden she felt something strange...something like...like...(feel, feel, feel)...flannel.  What the heck?

The woman opened her eyes, turned her head and there, with a sheepish grin on her face was a still half asleep Frankie.

Talk about being startled.  The woman, (mouth agape) was about to speak.

"Morning" was the first dreamy word out of Frankie's mouth.

The woman wanted to reply but was interrupted...

"I got cold" muttered Frankie.

Now, don't think badly of the woman, she had given Frankie a mound of blankets of her own, so her friend was not exactly sleeping on the living room floor with a single sheet, and a cover-less pillow.

Frankie began to grin...that kind of  'I've got some of your skin between my thumb and forefinger and I'm going to squeeze...really hard...so, you had better listen closely to my next words' kind of grin.

The woman listened.

Frankie was quite specific.  "Turn on the HEAT!"

The woman was about to speak.  Frankie cocked her head, and raised her left eyebrow...the way she does when she means business.  It was not necessary for Frankie to utter words when she made that gesture.

The woman sighed.  She knew Frankie was right...the quaint cottage was quite chilly and the thermometer on the living room wall registered only 63 degrees.  She seriously considered pressing the button that would bring the fireplace to life...but...

The woman walked away.

Frankie let out a "grrrrrr".

"Tomorrow," said the woman, "tomorrow...I promise if it is this cold tomorrow I will turn on the heat."

Then the woman had a vision...she was being pushed out of her own bed...there was always a dog, occasionally a cat...and now Frankie...it could be a very long winter.

The woman returned to the thermometer on the wall and pushed the button on the remote control...goodbye lovely credit.

Frankie won...sometimes the woman just had to do what a woman has to do.  Peace and tranquility...that's the ticket.  Even better, there was heat.

And, they all continue to live happily ever after.

The end.