Spring has come early to these parts, but that doesn’t mean spring is here to stay; it comes and goes. In fact, the weather is so volatile lately that we might experience the entire range of four seasons within a span of days. Or hours. Last week, it seemed as though spring had settled in, but this week’s raw temperatures have mixed with precipitation that reminds me the calendar still says March. But last week’s weather spoiled us. And the more inexperienced among us have shed our thick outer layers in favor of the freedom of a sweatshirt.

Then again, the teens among us shed their jackets with abandon long ago, and only wear such heavy garments when it is cold. Really cold. While I am more comfortable when I am bundled up, my young friends (the male ones, in particular) tend to believe a sweatshirt is enough unless the mercury dips into the single digits (and in these parts, we still measure in Fahrenheit).

Last night, we stepped outside the house on the way to a Scout meeting. My youngest was in a sweatshirt, the sight of which was making me shiver. “It’s 37 degrees,” I informed him. “You should be wearing a jacket.” This information was imparted merely for the purpose of informing him. I had no thought that he would actually care, much less do anything to rectify the situation.

“That’s funny,” he retorted. “That’s the same argument I was going to use about not needing a jacket.” Ah, to be young and numb to the cold.

I picked him up at the meeting two hours later. The temperature had dipped closer to freezing, and it was raining. As we stepped out of the building, his tough exterior crumbled for half a second, and his weakness slipped through. His immediate reaction was the statement, “It is very cold out here!”

I bit my tongue to stifle the I-told-you-so that was tumbling at warp speed toward the front of my mouth, and when I looked at him, he was already back-pedaling. “Wait, that’s not what I meant….”

“I know,” I said, swallowing hard to keep my mother-words down. “It’s not cold out here. You meant to say, Oh look, it’s raining!”

“Yep. That’s exactly what I meant!” he snickered.

We walked the rest of the way to the car in silence. Sometimes the obvious is better left unsaid.