Musing about my childhood raincoat

 My family moved several times while I was growing up because of my dad's job. We lived in Neenah, Wisconsin for almost all of my elementary school years. 

My mother bought me a white raincoat when I was maybe in second grade. It had sort of batwing sleeves and a hood. I'm sure she thought it was cute and also easily visible in a rain storm. However, my classmates decided it looked like a ghost and so whenever I had to wear it to school, at recess they would all run away from me yelling, "It's a ghost!"

I'm sure that was fun for them. It was not for me. It basically meant that whenever it was rainy no one would play with me. I hated that raincoat. 

I never told my mother and I never complained. It was unspoken, but clear that while we didn't lack for anything, we weren't spending money frivolously. I was not going to talk my mother into buying another raincoat. 

So I dealt with it as best a seven-year-old can. I reluctantly embraced the role and ran after my classmates pretending to be an actual ghost. 

I was so so happy when I outgrew that raincoat. My sister inherited it. Many years later, when we were adults, it came up somehow in conversation. She said the same thing -- the other kids designated her the ghost and ran away from her. She also played along with them. 

I haven't thought about that raincoat in years. I don't know why I thought about it today. It's 95 degrees and sunny here today.