That's me above, on the left. I'm Robin, reaping all of the benefits of fighting supervillians on the mean streets of Gotham, without the whole thing about watching my parents brutally murdered by a mob boss. All things considered, life was pretty good, growing up in the East Bay in the '80s, save for the fact that my cousin was somehow promoted to the role of Batman - most likely because he was visiting from afar (and maybe brought his own costume up from Southern California). And then there's the whole holding hands thing -- I can pretty much guarantee that ended the moment the photographer parent put the camera down. I mean, Arkham Asylum isn't going to patrol itself.
Despite early photographic evidence to the contrary -- and a few select themed birthday parties -- I was never really a DC Comics kid growing up. I'd chalk a fair amount of that up to the fact that, so far as these photo albums indicate, I didn't arrive on a rocketship from an exploding homeland, and was never independently wealthy, as the poor tailoring job on the Robin suit can attest.