Summer being in June, July and August is one of those things that is instilled in you during kindergarden and December means snow; there is simply no discussion or admission that somewhere else in the world it might be different.
Walking down Santa Fe avenue in Buenos Aires in 80 degree weather I recently saw a happy holidays sign in the window of a restaurant and wearing shorts and a tank with my fan blowing on me, I'm reading the Sunday ads for Christmas decorations complete with models wearing summer clothing. It is my first summer in the Argentine capital city and it is simply incomprehensible.
I can handle the different language, because it is to be expected, I can deal with the laid back customs, because generally it means I don't have to work as hard, but on a Wisconsin-girl level, I simply cannot feel the holidays approaching and worse yet, I cannot physically comprehend what month I am living.
Someone really should have told me when I was five that December is not synonymous with cold.