It's that time of year when I have to put my foot down with my son Riley. 

"You have to wear your winter coat!  You really need to put some gloves on!  Where is your hat?"

This is an actual statement I made to him yesterday.  I actually wrote down what I said after I said it, because I felt a blog post coming on.  To give you some background, he was leaving the house for basketball practice.  He had on shorts and a long-sleeved hooded sweatshirt.  This was after I insisted that he was not going to leave the house in just shorts--he needed sweat pants and a winter jacket. It was snowing out and the windchill was below zero.

And I actually said: "The wind chill is below zero.  The roads are slippery.  Cars can crash when roads are slippery.  You'll get hypothermia and they'll have to amputate your leg."

I have to chuckle as I write this.  My son is the most warm-blooded human being you will ever meet.  He is always warm.  I will have on jeans, a turtleneck, a sweater, a scarf wrapped half -way around my face, a winter jacket and gloves and I will be freezing.  He will be wearing short-sleeves and be warm to the touch.

But there is a time when I absolutely have to put my foot down and when the wind chill is below zero I pick my battle and insist on winning.

I put up with the stares from little old ladies when it is 40 degrees out, and he is not wearing a jacket, because I know the kid is actually warm.  I let him play soccer or football in fall, when it is damp and miserable, and he is the only kid out on the field without a long-sleeved shirt on under his uniform.  I send him to school where he is the only kid in 5th grade wearing short sleeves.  But during our Wisconsin cold snaps I micromanage.

Now if only I could find a way to harness his body heat to heat up the house, then I'd really be on to something!