What's the weather?

Up until the age of 18, I never read a weather report.

My morning routine was to wake up, shower, put on my bathrobe, and yell down the stairs, "DAD??!! WHAT'S THE WEATHER?!!"

Without fail, he would patiently explain what clothing I should be wearing. I took it for granted that he would always be there to decipher what was happening outside. I had a rude awakening when I went to college, although since I went to college in Southern California, it was usually sunny and warm.

Since then, I have learned to read the weather reports myself, and to figure out how many layers I need. I haven't thought about those early morning weather requests for a while.

Then, today, one of my 3rd graders came back when I had sent them down the hallway to recess.

"Tr. Julie - is it raining outside?" she asked. At this point in the day it was actually sunny with blue skies.

"What do you think? Can you make an inference about that?" I asked in my most annoying teacher fashion. She laughed and told me that yes, of course it wasn't raining.

A couple minutes later, she came back.

"Tr. Julie, do I need a sweatshirt?" I told her she was probably warm enough without it. 

I was asking myself why this little girl was asking me such obvious questions when it occurred to me to ask myself the same question. Why did I make such a point of asking my dad, all these years, to tell me how to dress for the weather, when I was perfectly capable of looking outside and figuring it out on my own?

In that moment, I realized that it was quite comforting to know that someone was always looking out for me, to protect me and be that line of defense between myself and the world. Even though I no longer have to ask my dad about the weather, I know he will always be that person for me.