Some of you that know me know that I am a huge Anglophile. For you rednecks that read this blog and don't know exactly what an Anglophile is, here is the definition.
From Urban Dictionary:
Someone (more often than not American) who holds an extremely romanticised view of England and the English.
In other words, I fancy myself a Brit. I know I am not. I know I was born in Atlanta, Georgia and I am proud of that. But part of me does wish that I had a completely different accent than the one I do have. I wish I had the by-birth-right to complain about the Queen instead of a President. Not that I would ever complain about anything ole Lillibet ever did though.
I love all things British.
I love the Royal Family. I love grey, rainy mornings. I love Earl Grey tea. I love watching BBC America. I dream in British accents. I want a closet full of Burberry crap. I want a house in the country and a flat in London. I want to take O levels and go to boarding school (preferably Hogwarts), and ride the Tube. I want all of that. But alas, I am a Southern gal who lives in the semi-country surrounded by pick up trucks and gun nuts. And no there isn't anything the least bit wrong about any of that. Not one thing.
All of those things make up who I am at my core. But I do romanticise about being British. I like to think of myself as a Southern gal with a British sense of humor.
So now that you know all of that about me, it should not come as any surprise that on my cellphone, under the iPhone's weather app, I have a listing that shows me what the weather is in London every day along with a listing of the towns we live and work in. I often scroll through to see what my fellow Brits (if I was actually a Brit) are experiencing on the weather front each day. Will they need their umbrellas? Will it be a rare sunny day? I just like to know what Tom Hiddleston or Benedict Cumberbatch will be facing each day, just like everybody else does. Y'all all wonder that, don't you?
Usually every morning I check the weather app to see what the day will bring and how Bean should dress. This morning was no different.
Well, that's not true. It was a little different. We woke up late.
We were running around trying to shove PopTarts in our mouths, jump into our pants, brush our teeth with our hairbrushes, all that crazed energy that happens on mornings when you are short on time.
I grabbed the phone and quickly checked the weather. 61 degrees and rainy! Sheesh, I thought. That's quite a big drop from yesterday when it was 73 degrees. A cold front must be coming through. And look this weekend is no better at 63 and 61 degrees. Brrrrrrr! Chilly! Might have to break out the heater, too.
(We are Southern, remember?)
So I immediately ran to Bean's closet, pulled down the lined raincoat she has, grabbed some very thick blue jeans and a long sleeve shirt for her. I almost grabbed the sweatshirt she likes but passed on it. Grabbed some of her thicker socks and ran back to hand it all over to her. Bean looked at me like I was insane.
"Honey, it's going to be 61 degrees outside and rainy all day. I know you don't understand what 61 degrees really is but trust me when I say you will get cold today."
So says the cold-natured mother to her hot-natured child - the one that gets hot playing outside in that ever-elusive snow stuff.
So she gets it all on without another word cause you know, she trusts her mother and all that jazz. She is bundled up as we are walking out to the car - still no rain in the sky though. Hmmm. That's weird.
No rain at all on the drive to school either. Sun in the sky, in fact. Hmmm, again.
When we get to school, as I'm walking her in I say, "now make sure you keep up with your raincoat cause you will probably need it this afternoon."
As I get back in the car and grab my phone to turn on my audiobook, the weather app is still opened on the screen. That's when I notice it.
Hmmm, indeed! I dressed her for Tom Hiddleston's weather, not ours. She will be burning up today.
Poor little thing having a dumb anglophile for a mom.