Having a Little Motherly Chat with my Weather Pixie

Y'all have met my Weather Pixie, right? Cute little redhead, hangs out on my sidebar, just below the SPT logo and above the moon phase box. It's always fun for me to see how the Weather Pixie is dressed because, well, I'm easily amused. What can I say! But today her outfit has me feeling all middle-aged and motherly and I'm not even a mother! Although I am most definitely middle-aged. Winona (I'm tired of typing "weather Pixie", so I hereby name her Winona) was dressed in fun low-rider embroidered blue jeans and a skimpy little short-sleeved tee, with her arms and a lot of her chest bare and her muffin top showing between the shirt and the jeans. Cute, yes? Except, people, the temperature said 36 F!! THIRTY-SIX!! (For those of you who live in CelciusLand, sorry, I'm math-challenged, but that would be just barely above 0 C...in other words Pretty Damn Cold.) That tells me that Winona is a teenager, something I didn't realize until this morning. When I was a teenager, I would totally have gone for "cute" over "warm" and not a soul in this world would have been able to convince me that there was nothing cute about blue-tinged, goose-bump-pebbled bare skin. But now I just want to roll my eyes and shove a coat in her hand and snap "Put this on before you get pneumonia! And do NOT take it off when you're out of sight of the house. Don't you THINK I don't know you do that!" Or...hmmm...maybe she isn't a teenager. Maybe she's a member of the bloodsucking undead. She doesn't really look pale enough, but you never know. In that case she wouldn't feel the cold because she'd already BE cold, but I'd like to tell her that she should wear a coat anyway when the temp is only four degrees above freezing. It would make her blend in better with humanity. Or maybe...MAYBE...she's middle-aged and her hormones are going nuts. Maybe she's like a certain other redhead who shall remain nameless who left dinner cooking on the stove last night in order to run outside, into 40 F weather, misting rain, and howling winds, in order to stand on the back deck, lift her face to the sky, and lift her SHIRT to the sky in order to fan some cold air onto her body before she oh...I dunno...spontaneously combusted or something. Also, would the 20-year-old who stole my brain please return it? 'Cause I really need it. Thanks. Now put some clothes on, Winona!