Life, kids etc.

Who duvet think they are?

English: A photo of a white duvet.

What on earth is a tog?

IS it still Summer? Or maybe Autumn?
The weather has been, as the kids say, minging.
Cold, wet and blustery.
Yet we’re still at the time of year when a roasting hot day could be just around the corner.
At the same time, it wouldn’t be too odd to see the first overnight frosts arriving to dust the car windows.
But, weather-wise, it’s always a funny time of year, this.
Which makes it all the more strange that it’s the time of year when we have to make that big decision: shall we take the summer duvet off and put the winter duvet on?
I’m not sure what a tog is exactly, but I do know they measure duvets in them.
And I’ve whacked a couple of extra togs on the bed of late.
Actually, I’ve whacked a couple of extra togs and a half on the bed – that half a tog makes all the difference you know.
It’s been an even tougher one to call than usual this year because of the relentlessly poor weather we‘ve been having.
The temptation has been to go too early.
Not me though, I’ve stuck to my guns.
Because when it comes to the big duvet swap (or BDS as I call it), I have a rule – go off the harvest.
Ahh, harvest time – when we traditionally “harvest” the old tinned peaches, pilchards in tomato sauce and out of date condensed milk from the back of the cupboard, for the kids to take into school.
It’s also the time, in our house, for the BDS.
Of course, being so rigid about it does throw up some anomalies. That year we had on holiday in Spain for example. The hotel manager couldn’t understand why I wanted a thicker duvet when it was 26 degrees at night. Still, it was harvest time in England and rules are rules.
To be honest, even these past few days haven’t been completely plain sailing for the BDS, despite the rubbish weather.
At the start of the week- as I have for much of this dreadful summer – I was shivering with cold at night.
Over the last couple of nights, with the winter duvet on, I’ve been sweating like a fat mouse in a cat disco.
Sweating so much in fact, I did wake up thinking I’d wet the bed at one point – although I’ve not done that in months!
It made me think though that maybe, just maybe, it was time to ease up on the strict regimen and just change the duvet when it gets too cold.
I could always change it back again if we hit an Indian summer.
After all, it only involves going into the loft and takes about 10 minutes all told.
I still don’t know what I’m going to do about it. Do I abandon tradition for common sense?
It is a question I’ve been boring my wife with for two whole days now. She says I am over analysing something that doesn’t need analysing at all and pointed out her patience is wearing thinner than our useless summer duvet.
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