Rainbow Brite

Rainbow Brite.  I know some people think of rain and promises when they think of rainbows.  I think of Rainbow Brite.  She was my favorite.  When I was little, I had a couple of Barbie dolls and a few My Little Ponies.  But Rainbow Brite was my girl.  We went everywhere together.  I even had a Rainbow Brite sleeping bag.  When you’re 6, that’s the defining factor in what’s most important to you – who’s on your sleeping bag.

There has been much discussion lately about where my little Brynna gets her spunk.  David is convinced she’s just like me.  My parents contend that I was not as strong-willed as my baby girl.  Rainbow Brite got me to thinking, though.  There are parts of us that are a product of our environment and external influences.  And then there are the things you don’t choose, but are, rather an outward expression of who you are at your core.  It may seem like an overly-simplistic comparison, but for me, that was Rainbow Brite.  I didn’t choose a princess.  I didn’t pick a fairy tale.  I had Rainbow Brite and Jem.  And we sat together and watched Punky Brewster. Before life taught me that at times, you are expected to conform, these chicks were the outward expression of my inner-spunk.

So I think I’ll stop suggesting otherwise and accept what I’ve grown to be immensely proud of: Brynna gets every bit of that spunk from me.  And it is my highest priority to teach her that no matter what anyone says, she never has to conform.  She can bring color to a colorless world, be “truly outrageous” and do it all with bandanas tied on her legs!*

*Please note: If you are confused by some of these references, you clearly weren’t a little girl in the 80’s and I’m sorry for that.