Boy Wonder bought an umbrella.
I know … hardly life-changing. Bigger things have happened today. And yesterday. But in my world, Boy Wonder buying an umbrella is a sure sign he’s growing up.
Never mind that he’s writing a PhD and working at the university.
Nevermind that he’s moved out of home (and come back again).
Nevermind that he’s been in (and out of) adult relationships.
Nevermind that he’s been train commuting to Melbourne most weekdays for more than four years.
Nevermind that he’s already explored more foreign countries than I’m ever likely to.
Just stand up and take notice that on this day, Boy Wonder bought an umbrella.
Forget the wintry days I’ve chased after him calling “don’t you need a jacket?”
Forget the dreary mornings I’ve offered to drive him to the train station or proffered my own over-loved brolly.
Forget my ad nauseum protestations of weather forecasts, gale warnings, average mean temperatures and expected annual rainfalls.
Attention: today Boy Wonder bought an umbrella. And not just any umbrella. Not a $2 Shop will-last-through-two-showers brolly. He took himself off to a CBD department store (yes, the one of the black and white houndstooth) and stood midst Melbourne’s other gentlemen and chose himself a stylish, black traditional umbrella. Of the gentlemanly kind. With a shapely hook handle. It’s a serious investment.
Buying one’s own umbrella is a rite of passage. A signal of independence.
Yes, Boy Wonder is all grown up, in a way that many other grown men aren’t.
It appears my work here is done.