Unless given Ritalin at regular intervals,
he dashes into Wal-Mart and turns into the red faced,
screaming beast who can shatter eardrums a mile away.
Oh wait, I just saw him this morning while grocery shopping.
He crushes beer cans with his bare hands and
can stop a speeding train with a single belch.
The Steel Magnolia
brilliant. She's beautiful. Junior Leaguers fear her. She
wouldn't shoot a whitetail deer, but has left men with their
throats cut and was drinking jalapeno mint martinis in
Hotlanta before her victims knew they were bleeding.
Faster than a speeding sports car, more
powerful than a 4 wheel drive pickup, more miles on the road
than a tractor trailer, able to leap pot holes in a single
bound... Watch out in the fast lane! It's RoadKill Man!
my son was two, he made up his own superhero. He would wear
a droopy diaper down to his knees with a turkey baster as
his sword, stuck snugly in his diaper. Around his neck he
wore a towel and for his headgear, he wore a Steelers
football helmet. In his hand he carried a briefcase. He
smeared ketchup on his face to appear more vicious. I kid
you not! We named him Dog Smogger because his ultimate goal
was to save all the kitty kats in the neighborhood. He would
whisk out his turkey baster and blast dogs in the snouts
with a blast of air.
The Super Duper Pooper
soon as I hear the struggling gurgle from our clogged
toilets, I spring into non-stop action rescuing our
porcelain pods from mounds of toilet paper, little green
army guys, bagels, broccoli and yes, poop. Lots and lots of
poop. C'mon mamas, I know you are out there. It's time to
reveal your secret identities like DIAPER DEFENDER, LAUNDRY
LYNCHER, COOTIE CRITIC, WATCHER OF HORMONE-CHALLENGED TEEN
BABYSITTERS, CHAMPION OF LATE NIGHT VOMIT SESSIONS and more.
I know you're out there. Stand tall. Be proud.
Uh-oh, I hear a gurgle. Gotta go. The life of a
superhero-mom never ends.
Julie Watson Smith