"Coolness"

I've never been cool.

I accepted the fact that I wasn't cool long before I could really even define what cool was. There was no way I could be cool -- not by wearing clothes out of the church donation box or, later, those found in discount stores. In high school, I loved being a band nerd. At least I had plenty of band nerd friends with whom to congregate. Safety in numbers.

My boys, however, strive to be cool. They aren't yet asking for the expensive tennis shoes or blue jeans, but they certainly want to blend in with the crowd: hairstyles, attitude, and mismatched socks.

Apparently, it's not "cool" to wear a warm coat. Even though it was 15 degrees outside this morning, neither child would don anything heavier than a hoody. If the bus should break down or the family van run out of gas, those two would freeze their tushes off. They don't know the meaning of the word "preparedness."

Lego could style his hair to accentuate the curls he was born with, but he prefers to slick it down over his forehead. Sport has a closet full of nice clothes, but he wears the same ratty t-shirts to school every week. When we do our Saturday running-around, they invariably leave their coats at home, counting on the van heater to keep them warm.

If we do end up with a flat tire, I'm not giving my coat to anyone. Unlike the boys, I don't strive for coolness. I'd much rather be comfortable. And nerdy.