'Tales from the Land of the Lost... Property' continued...

You know how sometimes bloggers use a little poetic licence when writing their posts?  I have to admit that the post I wrote yesterday - about Boy #2 losing his coat - was actually about an incident that happened the day before.  So sue me.

What I'm writing about now, though, happened this morning - honest, guv.

So, in an effort to communicate to Boy #2 how much of a pain in the backside losing his coat is, I have made him come with me to the Lost & Found cupboards at school 3 times since he mislaid it.  We went there yesterday morning.  We went there yesterday afternoon.  And we went there again this morning.

No sign of it - the coat is still lost in the space-time continuum.  But I figured that if nothing else, as a result of the hassle of going backwards and forwards to L&F, he would take better care of his belongings from now on.

This morning, however, after another fruitless expedition to the cupboards, I walked him to his class.  We were almost at the door, when THIS happened.

Me: "Have a good day darling.  See you later..."

Boy #2: "Bye Mum!"

Me (with a sinking feeling):  "Wait.  Where are your hat and gloves?"

Boy #2 looked at me with a dismayed expression.  "Um.  I left them at the Lost & Found?"


Well.  That lesson in taking responsibility for his possessions really worked, then...

Gaaaaah! or, 'Tales from the Land of the Lost... Property'

The scene; this morning, Potski Mansions.  It's 8.05am.  The boys and I need to leave for school in three minutes.  I'm standing by the back door doing my usual normal morning routine to get them out of the house (that resembles nothing so much as herding cats), when it happens.

Me:  "Boy #2 - where's your coat?"

Boy #2:  "My what?"

Me:  "Your coat."

Boy #2:  "Oh, that.  I don't need it."

Me:  "What do you mean, you don't need it?  We live in Russia, for Pete's sake!  It's only March - it could still be -15degC outside!"

Boy #2 looks at me despairingly, and opens the back door, gesturing at the scene outside.  "Mum.  The sun is shining.  The snow is practically gone."

I splutter, realising that it's finally happened - I have become a Russian babushka - and that if I'm not careful I will start shouting at families who's children are not wearing snow suits to the park in May.  "Yes, but...  But... it's March!"

Boy #1:  "He's right - it's +5degC out there.  Practically tropical - I might leave my coat at home, too..."

Me (feeling very much as if the situation is slipping away from me).  "Hang on a moment.  Boy #1, you don't have to WEAR your coat, but you do have to take it to school.  Boy #2, you too."

Boy #2:  "Ah."

Me (sinking feeling):  "Ah, what?"

Boy #2:  "It's not here."

Me:  "Not here?  Where is it, then?"

Boy #2:  "At... school?"

Me:  "Where at school?"

Boy #2:  "I don't exactly know..."

Reader, I am not proud of the explosion that followed.  Or of the harrumphing and general bad behaviour as I drove the boys to school (the gentle and of course highly fulfilling amble filled with parental/son bonding that I had previously envisaged - prior to 'Coat-Gate' - having been cancelled out by the time this conversation took).

In my defence, the thought of replacing Boy #2's perfectly OK winter jacket at this stage in the game - when there are only a few weeks left when he will actually need it - was not an appealing one.  Neither was the thought of ferreting through the school's Narnia-sized Lost & Found cupboards every day for the next 2 weeks whilst Boy #2's coat works it's way there through the ether from wherever he left it.  I mean, what HAPPENS to the kids' missing stuff in the interim period?  Is there a kind of 'Room of Requirement' that is full of coats, hats, gloves, shoes, water bottles, lunch boxes and suchlike, where this stuff languishes until some evil house-elf decides that the parents have been tortured enough, and OK, joke's over, you can have this crap back now?  Is there?  IS THERE?

(Can you tell I've given this possibility some thought?)

Anyway.  Back on Planet 'Well, It's Just A Coat, After All', we reached the school.  I parked the car and noted that amazingly we were still there 5 minutes early.

Me:  "OK, Boy #2 - you can come with me to the Lost and Found section and look for your coat."

Boy #2:  "Fine, Mum. And whilst we're at it, can we see if the water bottle I left somewhere yesterday is there, too?"

Gah!