With severe weather warnings across the region, and the rain hurtling horizontally past the window this morning, I drove the kids to their schools.
This is only the 2nd time I’ve done this in the 4½ years we’ve lived here, as both the primary and the high school are less than half a mile away (although in opposite directions). But with Rogan and Meg still recovering from the last effects of possible swine flu, it didn’t seem like a good idea to allow them to get drenched on the walk to school, then have to sit around in wet clothes all day.
On the drive back, watching the steady stream of kids walking singly, in pairs and in groups along the pavement, it suddenly occurred to me how the hood on a school kid’s coat is a never-used, pointless accessory.
It is designed purely to appease the sensibilities of responsible parents who haven’t realised that even in the most extreme weathers it will be removed the moment the child is out of sight.
As my thoughts prepared themselves for a rant about “kids today,” and it “not being like that in my day,” etc, I remembered it was actually no different in my day.
And at least some of these kids had their jackets fastened.