There was a big storm in Toronto last night, a concert of percussion instruments, with lightening and thunder, and beating hale. Immediately, I thought about my Mum, and the stories she told us when storms set in. “Mary must be mopping the floors and rearranging the chesterfields.” It came naturally to her, it still does, to round off the edges of reality with whimsy and humour. To this day, she believes wholeheartedly that children should live out their wonder years for as long as possible, and that answers to challenging questions should be honest, but simple. It’s one of the hardest tasks as a parent, to take complicated issues and make them digestible, without stripping them of their fibre. I’ve thought about all the delicate conversations parents are having with their children this week, and what a responsibility and privilege it is to be a parent today. Teach them how to wipe their bottoms and ride a bicycle; teach them how to manage their pocket money and stand up for their friends; teach them tech etiquette and internet safety; teach them why Marie Curie wasn’t allowed to go to college in her own country, what melanin is, and how amazing it is that our world is filled with so many different kinds of people; teach them how to set a table, and screw in a light bulb, and teach them respect and empathy. “You may not always be able to answer the question in the exact moment that it is asked,” my Mum once said. At a tech talk for parents with kids in Grade 5, the speaker reminded all of us to listen more than we talk. “When talking through tricky issues with your kids, you should be hearing their voices more than your own,” she said. I think we can get so set on trying to convey our messages, impart our knowledge, that we forget to actually listen to theirs. Kids are the wisest among us, because they tune in to what is not being said. They watch, and absorb our actions more than they listen to our words. Teach by example, goes the old adage. We’re going to botch up as often as we succeed. To admit to our mistakes, our ignorance, our shortcomings, shows humility, and is as important a lesson as any other. More. Honesty, peppered with humour. And when lightening strikes, because it will, I hope my children will think of Mary testing her new pot lights, and also know that swimming during a thunderstorm can be dangerous.