Cold Brains

Winter weather’s enjoyable because it makes my morning strolls slightly more insane. It probably has to do with poor circulation on my part, all that cold air keeping blood from reaching certain parts of my brain.

What's that? A dramatic example? Okay, fine:

Chris and his Brain are strolling down the street. A young mother walks by, tugging her little bundled-up daughter along by the arm.

Brain: Aw. Will you look at that? It’s a young mother. Tugging along her child.

Chris: Yes.

Brain: You think that’s cute.

Chris: I do.

Brain: Look how bundled up she is. Puffy coat. Scarf and hat. She’s like an adorable little pillow.

Chris: Maybe I should hug it.

Brain: But probably not.

The mother and child have walked by now.

Chris: Hey. What were those little…things?

Brain: Where?

Chris: On her hands.

Brain: Hm.

Chris: They weren’t gloves.

Brain: Nope. All the fingers were together.

Chris: Yup.

Brain: Like flipper-gloves.

Chris: Right. What do you call those really?

Brain: What? The flipper-gloves?

Chris: Yeah.

Brain: …

Chris: Anything?

Brain: …

Chris: You should know this.

Brain: Gimme a minute.

Chris and Brain walk another block or so.

Chris: Anything?

Brain: Muffins.

Chris: What?

Brain: She’s wearing muffins.

Chris: On her hands?

Brain: Yes.

Chris: Hm…that sounds like it might be right.

Brain: Hm.

Chris: Really? Muffins?

Brain: Like 67% sure.

Chris: Hm. Maybe.

Brain: You’re very cold.

Chris: Yes…I’m not sure about—

Brain: I know. But it’s close.

Chris: Okay.

Fin.

And now, whenever I see people wearing those fluffy little flipper-gloves, I think about eating their hands.