When I was in grade seven and thus in the world of high school, I decided I really resented having to wear a winter hat. My mother insisted that I wear one to keep my head warm. My solution seemed obvious – wear it until I was out of sight and then take it off my head, not putting it on until I was almost home again. This would have been a dandy solution except for one thing.

We lived in an upper duplex and my mother would watch me leave in the morning. I chose to take my hat off when I got just around the corner, concealed by a large hedge on the corner property. Naturally, the hedge was not higher than the living room window. My mother saw me take my hat off every morning and stuff it into my bag as I walked up the street. If she happened to spot me coming home she would also see me stop and pull it back out of my bag to put it on my head before coming around the corner.

She didn’t tell me she knew my little secret for years. But I do know now how amused she must have been, because Hayley is starting early.

Today she tried to tell me that she didn’t need to wear a coat. I explained that she could go out at recess and lunch without it and she certainly didn’t need it after school, but that the mornings were still chilly. She debated for a bit but I held firm, especially since she was wearing a t-shirt. We did compromise by agreeing it could remain unzipped.

We stood in the schoolyard waiting for the bell to ring, and when her best friend got off the bus, they walked off together towards the Kindergarten entrance. Because I’m just like that, I always watch until she goes around the corner to the doorway before I leave, just to make sure she goes in – once she gets to that point, there’s a teacher standing there to make sure everyone goes inside.

I guess she forgot that I stand there and watch every morning because when she got halfway across the schoolyard she stopped her friend, then she glanced over her shoulder to look for me. There was a crowd of kids streaming off the school buses and into various doors so she didn’t see me. Then she quickly shrugged her coat off and stuffed it into her school bag before smugly strutting off towards her door in the chilly morning air in her short sleeves.

I just stood there, laughing in disbelief and remembering my little hat trick.

I still haven’t told her. Maybe I won’t for a few more years, just like my mother. I’ll just let her think she pulled one over on her mom instead.