“I go by the weather,” he said confidently. “When the weather changes, the summer is over.” “The weather never changes. This is Florida.” “We have a winter,” he said stubbornly. “Yes, those two days a year when I have to wear a sweater are truly harrowing.” I made a sound of exasperation. “If you tack on September, you have to add May as well. Where does it end?” “Well, we’re at the end of May now, so isn’t that moot?” I opened my mouth to argue some more, and then I realized we were both strapping on gear to spelunk in a rabbit hole.
