I went to college in Maine, at a lovely place called Bates.
Maine is very cold. Bates is very preppy. Winter at Bates is very cold, and very long.
When preppy people are cold and bored at college, they have formals so that they can break the tedium of studying in fleece or flannel to drink alcohol in dressy clothes.
Far from casting aspersion on this practice, I fully embraced it and thought it was fantastic.
I think it is the annual Wilson House Formal at Bates that's held in January. (Friends, correct me if I'm wrong.)
My friends and I never took our coats to that particular formal, because we didn't want to lose them.
(Read that again.)
We walked across campus in our formal wear (not noted for warmth), without our coats, because we knew that they would be flung into a heap, have beer or punch splashed upon them, and then perhaps go home without their rightful owners.
We were cold. We were young. And tough. And stupid? (Yet really smart?)
We had our coats, though. (Not with us. Nevermind. You got that part.)
* * * * *
Jack will probably not go to Bates.
He TRIES to insist on wearing shorts every day.
I know it's Texas, but it was 40 degrees this morning. By Texas standards, that's time to break out the Uggs and watch out for ice.
We do not let Jack wear shorts when it's cold. He is 4 1/2 and has zero body fat. We love him and do not want him to get bronchitis, ear infections, pneumonia, the flu, or become one Star Wars enthused goose bump.
Today was a particularly rough morning in what I'll call ShortsGate. I had the distinct thought as I dropped him off at school that if there was a pair of shorts in his cubby, he would have them on by the time I picked him up. I prematurely accepted defeat, even.
His Most Excellent Teachers then sent this about mid-day.
That is not the shirt he wore to school.
Those ARE the pants he wore to school.
ShortsGate has been averted for another day. Hats off to Mr. Scott and Miss Hayley.
Hope you keep your pants on today.