Me: "Are you turning up that thermostat?"
James: "Only to 76...it was at 74..."
Me: "74?! It should have been at 72!" (I've gotten old. I worry about the thermostat being too hot and the power bill thus being five dollar higher. My mother never did this, and I don't think my father does this, so I assume I am taking after some deceased member of the family I never met.)
James: "72! I'll freeze!"
Me: "Put on a long sleeved shirt!"
James: "Long sleeves?! But--but--I'll be encumbered!"
Me: "What...like if you have to get in melee or something?"
James: (seizing on this) "Yeah! If I get in combat, I'll already have to take off my socks--if I'm messing with two shirts--I mean--I won't have time!"
Me: "You're worried...about...your...armor check penalty."
The thermostat is now at 76. Because hey, who can top an argument like that?