Costa Cool

I’m in the kitchen baking to see the boys through at least two hours of half term.

Daniel:   Can I have some money for Costa Coffee?

Me:         I’m making you a cake!

Daniel:   Yeah but I’m meeting Luke & Euan

Me:         Bring them here

Daniel:   It’s not cool

Since when – and how - did Costa Coffee become cool?  All I see there are parents and pensioners; plus the occasional city suit on his way home from distressing the economy. 

I thought teenagers were supposed to hang around bus shelters and bike sheds, but then again most of these have been demolished.  So much for discouraging car use.

Instead they lurk online on Facebook and MSN, jumping between one line conversations in half a dozen windows with the skill of a conductor controlling an orchestra.  At least they can multi-task.

And then there’s the PlayStation.

Me:         It’s time for bed

Jamie:   I’m in a game with friends from school

Me:         Well end it

Jamie:   I can’t, I’m the host and if I log off, everyone gets kicked out

Me:         Teeth grind

Before it became uncool for their friends to come round, you could always send them home.  Now, they’re here all the time but all you know of them are the jingles of electronic alerts. 

When they were babies, someone told me to give them a room of their own when they’re teenagers.  They’ll still be doing all the stuff you don’t want them to, but at least you know where they’re doing it.  Never realised that the internet would make this unnecessary.

Maybe real life at Costa Coffee should be encouraged.  I’ll just stuff their pockets with my cakes first, so they’re not corrupted.