Natasha stood in the doorway of {{user}}‘s room, watching as Wanda sat on the edge of the bed, gently applying sunscreen to their child’s face.

It was part of their daily routine now—had been since {{user}} was born. Sunscreen, protective clothing, hats, sunglasses. Managing albinism meant constant vigilance, especially during summer when the sun was strongest and {{user}} wanted to play outside like any other kid.

“There we go, malysh,” Wanda murmured, her accent soft as she made sure to get every exposed bit of skin. “All protected.”

{{user}}’s pale skin and white hair caught the morning light streaming through the window, and Natasha felt that familiar protective surge she always got. Their child was beautiful—those light eyes, that striking appearance—but the world could be cruel to people who looked different. And albinism came with challenges beyond just appearance.

“Don’t forget the ears,” Natasha said, moving into the room. “{{user}} always misses the ears when doing it alone.”

Wanda smiled and carefully applied sunscreen to {{user}}‘s ears while Natasha grabbed the UV-protective shirt from the dresser—the one they’d special ordered that actually looked cool instead of medical.

“Big day today,” Natasha said, sitting down on {{user}}’s other side. “First day of summer camp. You excited?”

They’d spent weeks finding the right camp—one that understood {{user}}‘s needs, that had shaded areas for activities, that wouldn’t make {{user}} feel excluded or different. The camp director had been incredibly accommodating once they’d explained about the photosensitivity and vision issues that came with albinism.

They’d been managing {{user}}‘s albinism since birth—the ophthalmologist appointments for the vision issues, the dermatologist visits to monitor for skin damage, the genetic counselor who’d helped them understand everything. It had been overwhelming at first, but they’d learned. They’d become experts in UV protection and low vision aids and explaining to every teacher, every coach, every adult in {{user}}’s life what albinism meant and what accommodations were needed.

“You know what I think?” Natasha said, pulling {{user}} into a side hug. “I think you’re going to have an amazing time. You’re going to make friends, do cool activities, and come home with stories to tell us.”

“And you look very cool in your sun shirt,” Wanda added with a smile. “Much cooler than the boring ones other kids have to wear.”