Cold, Wet & Hungry

"Life is like chess," I keep telling my children.
"You make your best move, then it's the other person's turn.  You can HOPE they'll make a certain move, but you can't control it.  It's totally their move."

It's not something they've embraced...yet.

Which is how the oldest went off to classes-in-multiple buildings clad in T-shirt, pants, socks and shoes, with a cold drizzle and high wind for company.

He had come downstairs in the morning, ostensibly to get ready for the day, only to lay down on the sofa in the darkened family room.  (At least he was closer to where he needed to make his lunch). 
Being his mom, I tossed a blanket over him.

An hour later, when it was time to leave for school, minus breakfast, minus lunch, minus money to buy lunch, minus coat, shoes and socks in hand...the blanket was the problem.

Number One Son had been unable to resist getting re-cozied and falling back asleep.
If only mom hadn't put the blanket over him!

He made his move:  laying down.
I made my move:  covering him up.
He made his move:  not getting back up.
I made my move:  taxi's leaving.

Both children are self-taught lawyers, and pretty good at it, dropping "It wasn't my fault" into the middle of almost any behavioral correction, still believing (or perhaps fervently hoping), that simple excuse cancels out any expectations.

And...because they're advanced self-taught lawyers, countering with "Doesn't matter, the final responsibility is still yours" only leads to black-and-white parsing of all possible extenuating circumstances:

"So, you're saying if you're in an accident that's no excuse for being late."
"So, if the printer isn't working in the morning, you're saying I should get dinged for a late paper."
And...ripped from yesterday's headlines:
"It's not my fault I'm late...(friend's dad) wanted to stop and get something to eat."
"Did you tell him you had to be home right away?"
"No, he said he was hungry."

I worry about this, because I know "I just couldn't, because..." can be a Way of Life. 
I've seen it happen.  Not only do I dread conversations with these people,
I'm convinced their lives are smaller than they need to be.
Life makes its move, they make theirs...or not.

Life (and the people in it) really is a master chess player.
Crazy moves come out of nowhere.

But,

To paraphrase Dean Wormer,
"Cold, wet and hungry is no way to go through life, son."