The Weather Report

Jeremy and Auntie Robyn, Summer 2010

We work hard to shield kids from all things bad. In the process, though, we rob them of opportunities for self protection.

I wish I'd been taught that life's unfair, instead of being hit by pain, time and again, completely ill-prepared.

I wish I'd been given an umbrella, one that I could use in the sun or rain.

I wish I'd been raised like my nephew, Jeremy.

On the first morning of my visit, Jeremy entered the guest room to announce, with arms outstretched in explanatory fashion, "It's a sunny day! It's a sunny day!"

"You're right, sweetie." I colluded with his denial, as rain continued pounding on the window panes. "It's a sunny day, Jeremy."

"Yeah," he sighed, plopping down beside me on the air mattress. "Rain is too scary. It's dark. I don't like it."

"It is scary," I confirmed. "But today is a sunny day for us."

With that, Jeremy popped up and began jumping wildly on the mattress like a yo-yo on crack. "I'm a rock star! I'm a rock star!" He shouted. "Oh yeah! I'm a rock star!"

Mind you, the kid's growing up in L.A. where everyone and their i-Pod is a rock star. In fact, all inanimate objects suffer from some degree of rock stardom. Soda cans are labeled "rock star," chewing gum, gaudy sunglasses, and glittery T-shirts. You name it. All rockstars. None is quite like my Jeremy, though.

So when I called him to say "Happy Hanukah" last night, Jeremy told me that he got a Toy Story mm-brella for Hanukah.

"You got a Toy Story umbrella? That's very special," I assured.

"Yep. I used it today. 'Cuz it's raining," he said with excitement.

With his umbrella, Jeremy now welcomes the rain.

I hung up longing for the childhood during which I was given an umbrella, one that I could use in the sun or rain. I'm glad Jeremy has one.