An exchange about the weather

"It is going to be eight degrees on Sunday," said Steve. "Might be a green Christmas."

He said these two sentences as if his grandparents had been blue-collar French Canadians with chips on their shoulders and who seldom dusted their fleur-de-lis.

"There's a lot of snow to melt, though" I said.

It was all very Socratic, and then we told each other to have a good day.