Much warmer.
There is a high of 91 degrees. I forget, in the depths of winter, what the summer is like, and how much I dislike it.
We have switched M to less capacious clothes.
She seems relatively happy about this development, but less so about the weather.
On the other hand, she may love the weather and hate tummy time. But until she learns to talk, I get to ascribe meaning to her facial expressions.
I think she is commenting not on the weather, but on the greatness of Elvis Presley. My cat does the same thing.
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