I believe Minnesotans tend to respond inappropriately to this state’s weather. We resist getting out our winter clothes as long as possible, but when below zero temperatures and snow-covered roads force us to finally cave in, we go the complete opposite direction.

Heavy-duty snowmobile mittens? Check. Triple-insulated boots? Check. Ginormous down parkas and puffy jackets? You know it.

Then as soon as March rolls around and the weather gets milder, we’re overexcited about ditching our snow gear. You see people in shorts as soon as there’s a sunny day of 50 degrees, and if there’s more than three in a row, you’ll be able to identify the truly hopeful by their sandals.

Of course, this being Minnesota, we’re guaranteed to get another dump of snow at least once before summer kicks in for real. The wisest among us don’t put their snow shovels away until April. Even then there will be those seasoned Minnesota veterans who point out that, “There was that one year…”

Here in Minnesota, we don’t always dress for the weather because we’re in denial (or because snowstorms don’t happen in May — even here). But then there’s the Clan, and our excuse is that for a long time, most of us have been under 10.

We’re as excited as anyone else for winter to be over, but we tend to let our excitement show a little early and in some extreme ways. It’ll be 40 degrees out and drizzling cold rain, the muddy leftovers of snowbanks, and the kids will be out on the lawn in shorts, t-shirts, and rubber boots.

No kidding.

That’s also about the temperature range when they start asking to jump on the trampoline. Mom saved herself a lot of questioning by passing the Spring Trampoline Law: No jumping until it’s at least 50 degrees out.

Of course, now the kids watch the thermometer like hawks, waiting for it to inch from 49 degrees to 50 — and once it does, you know where they’ll be!

Our disregard for Minnesota spring weather also means we want to get the bikes out before the snow is gone and long before the ground is even remotely dry. Riding through gigantic spring mud puddles is worth leaving tire tracks on the lawn for, right?

We also ditch our shoes very quickly. Once there’s actual grass to walk on, not snow, and once the mud has subsided in the most traffic-heavy parts of the yard, the boots and shoes stay on the floor and we start traipsing around outside barefoot.

We may be more trigger-happy than most when it comes to dressing for spring, but the flip side of that coin is that many of my younger siblings are equally excited about winter. The 40 degree weather in March calls for bare feet, shorts, and bikes, but 40 degree weather in September means they start asking when we’ll be getting out the winter boots.

If you were looking for further proof that we’re an odd bunch, that would be it right there.