“I got a new car today!” Mom said, as she excitedly led me out to the driveway.
There sat a tiny white Datsun convertible.
“It’s cute, Mommy,” I giggled, “Where’s the top?”
“Well. It doesn’t have one, that’s why it was so cheap,” Mom answered. “We live in California … we really don’t need one.”
I was four years old, but I wasn’t stupid.
Flash forward to rainy day, me and Mom driving down the California Freeway with an umbrella hovering over the two of us. I held onto that umbrella with all that I had, trying not to let the wind catch it and whip it from my tiny little arms … again.