Talking about the weather

Colder weather means a colder shoulder with my Mom ... literally. I know the temperature is slowly dropping out there but can she not go one minute without worrying about my health?

As soon as summer ends my Mom is known to turn into a dark evil creature who looms over me instructing me to wear my coat everywhere I go. She thinks by the time October has rolled around, the temperature drops to minus 55 degrees and we all of a sudden have begun a new ice age.

I always have my coat in my car which doesn't satisfy her. I must wear my coat walking to my car. She obviously thinks hypothermia will set in during the 30-foot walk to my vehicle. Unfortunately, the only two coats I own are a gigantic Carhart and one that resembles a slip of gray tissue paper. There is no happy medium for me when it comes to a coat.

"Where are you going?" she'll ask.

"To get the mail," I say as I rush out the door.

In the distance I can hear the faint rumbling sounds of my mother's outbursts.

"Put on an (expletive deleted) coat! You'll freeze your (expletive deleted) off! I might as well be talking to an (expletive deleted) brick wall!" By the time she ends her tirade, I'm back in the house with the mail. Her useless ranting amuses me and that's one of the reasons you gotta love her.

I never have liked cold weather much. There never seems to be enough clothing for me to put on. And once there is enough clothing, I'm about to burn alive. My lips crack all the way to my ears, and a mixture of wet snow and mud in your pants is no laughing matter.

Wait. I've just discovered there is something I can get mad at my mom about.

She owns a mink coat yet she never wears it.

"It's never cold enough," she says.

What? If I owned a mink coat, I'd probably wear it to the beach to get my money's worth. She could have fed hungry children for five years with that money, yet she chose to hang a piece of fur in her closet. At least I keep my coat in the car.

Sam DeReign is a senior at Oran High School. Contact him at sdereign@semissourian.com.