raised in a barn

i hadn't quite been able to put my finger on it until today. you would think that after the recent, self-proclaimed two coldest weeks of our lives, with low single digit temperatures and wind chill factors in the negative teens, that the concept of conserving and storing up our coveted heat supply as much as possible would be a highly practiced moral standard. see, i can't complain. i knew what i was marrying, but i swear, despite his amazing parents, jason was "raised in a barn."

dad always used this expression growing up... which i used to think was rather obnoxious. i'd kinda just chalked the saying up to his being a good ole country boy. the saying reminded me of playing in the hay stacks in papaw's old barn. however, i've come to the sophisticated conclusion that heating the entire town of boone on my own penny isn't exactly my favorite thing to do, and that "raised in a barn" wasn't a complement.

now, i realize that my less than beefy husband would be the first to request a warm house, however, there is some sort of mental block to closing our side door when he goes outside. for some reason, even if it takes him 3+ minutes (aka, an eternity) to gather his belongings from our car, or to kick the dirt out of his boots... having the door open is completely justifiable. when i close the door for the duration of his pilgrimage, you'd think i'd locked him outside for the night or something. i'm just curious as to how keeping our door standing wide open could possibly be justified... maybe he just hates the thought of something separating us or coming between us. :-)