I just don't understand teenagers ...

No logic, that's the problem.  When I was fifteen, and it was raining, I would wear a coat. Or a jacket.  Or use an umbrella.  Logical.  So why, in the same weather conditions, on a cold, rainy April morning, when your loving and caring Mother tells you to take a coat with you when you leave the house, is she on the receiving end of a withering stare which tells her she is either completely and utterly stupid or perhaps just clinically insane?  My personal choice would be the latter, as it is only since becoming the mother of a teenager that my insanity has truly blossomed.  Prior to that I thought the worst stage of being a parent was the tantrum era, and before that, the relentless nights trying in vain to coax a baby to sleep, who appeared rather allergic to it.  But I take it all back.  This is, by far the worst.  At least there is some room for bargaining with a ferocious toddler, but try bribing a teenager and I might as well be trying to teach my cat to do the ironing ... now there's a thought.  Bonkers?  Me?