Superhero

Superhero

Have you ever been a hero to someone? Well, here is an example of the type of superhero gig I've gotten into:

I was sitting around the living room one day last week, reading Spandex Uniform Weekly, the famous superhero rag when my ultra hearing picked up a wail of dispair coming from the vicinity of the bathroom. Faster than a speeding bullet, I rushed in, fearing the worst: a child with his foot caught in the loo or a severed stump of a hand due to a razor left unsecured. Despite my supersonic speed, it seemed to take forever to travel across the house to the bathroom. Meanwhile, the klaxxon wail from my son, Ethan, rang in my head. This was no mere fuss or cry of frustration, it was a wail of terror and it made my heart race. Finally, after navigating the lego maze and vaulting the Lincoln Log tower, I arrived at the bathroom.

Ethan immediately flew into my arms (not literally, as he hasn't discovered his superpowers yet), crying buckets of tears. He was hysterical, but seemed to be physically ok. I used my xray vision to give him a once over and, having satisfied myself that he was fine, flipped to detective mode to solve the mystery of the distraught youth.

"Ethan, what is the matter?" I asked, probing gently. "Muahvure carivo ferllio prottymurahawaaaaa!" wailed my son, in a tone that suggested that I'd better do something quickly. "Son, calm down! Turn your fussies off and tell my why you are yelling!" I counseled him, using my mutant telepathic powers to calm him. At that point, my oldest daughter entered the bathroom. She has been exploring her own superpowers and in her guise as "Little Miss Know-it-all", she told me matter-of-factly, "Ethan dropped his car in the potty, daddy." Amazed at her ability to understand fussy baby talk, I thanked her and rushed to the toilet to inspect the situation.

My finely honed senses reported several things all at once: First, Ethan did indeed drop his toy car in the potty. Second, he had apparently been sitting on the potty going number two when he dropped it. Third, I believed that both Ethan and SuperNana expected me to retrieve the toy before flushing the offending matter down the drain.

I wondered for a brief moment if this might be a job for another superhero, but quickly resigned myself to the task. After all, no one ever said that Superhero-ing was glamorous. I knew I wasn't going to need superstrenght, heat vision or the questionable ability to waggle my eyebrows to complete this herculean task. What I needed was some special equipment. A quick search of the vicinty located the items. Super Dooper Dookey Repellant Latex Gloves and a Long Handled Toilet Brush (with non slip grip). A few minutes work and I'd secured the toy and risen a few points on the respect scale in my son's eyes. SuperNana, supervising the operation smiled at me (or was it a smirk)? Ethan clamored for his toy, but I insisted on sending the toy through the decontamination protocol before returning it to "play" status.

I went back to my magazine and settled in with a self-satisfied smile. All in a days work for this superhero. Go go DaddyJeff!