When I was a small lass, I was gifted a Wonder Woman training bra. Not, mind you, because I actually required a bra, but because it made me feel all super-special to finally wear one. I wasn't exactly a late bloomer, but it did take me awhile to develop in the chesticle area.
I'd never been a huge fan of superheros – I was always a Smurfs kinda girl, and while I appreciated that comic book people liked the idea of people with superpowers, I simply didn't get it. Not to say I didn't watch Saturday morning cartoons with the best of 'em, just that they never quite did it for me in the same way that they did for other kids.
Which is why my own kids are positively baffling to me.
When they started getting into television shows that weren't played exclusively by annoying characters like that stupid duck from the Wonder Pets whom I want to flambe into Duck L'Orange, I was relieved. On the one hand, some of those shows can teach some real compassion and good values for kids, but on the other, some of them – like the one with the dancing sex toy - make me positively homicidal.
Outgrowing those shows has been a mixture of a blessing and a curse.
Why? Why would I say such a horrible thing about a duck with a lisp?
Because now my kids have decided that they, too, are superheros. Most notably, Batman and anyone who graces the Batman plot line. This not only puts a huge damper on my whole “Land Shark” idea, but it's gotten them obsessed with the wee tiny Lego Batman series – but just the guys from it. They could care LESS about the rad Batcave or Alfred or the rad toys that Alfred MAKES Batman – no. It's just the tiny Batman Lego Guys they're into.
Which is great, because they do all sorts of imaginative play and stuff, but sucks because they're also into dismantling their figurines and putting them back together... that is, if they can find the wee pieces they've inadvertently scattered throughout my apartment.
The very second one of those puppies goes missing, it's all wailing and whining until I can either find the notoriously missing piece, often described as “batwings,” or “whoo-dillies” (which entails me crawling on the floor and looking under furniture for something I can't identify without their help), or find them a new set solely for the Batman people.
(sidebar: I tend to find these pieces with my feet in the middle of the night while I'm emptying my squirrel bladder)
My two tiny masked superheros are going as far as to dress up as Batman and Bat Girl for Halloween, costumes that are decidedly adorable and charming – they're getting such a kick out of dressing up as their favorite superheros that I can't possibly be upset that I had nothing to do with picking out their costumes (a favorite past time of mine). In fact, they've decided upon several costume ideas for me.
Alex: “What are you going to be for Halloween, Mama?”
Me: “Oh, I don't know – your mother?” (snickers at the “your mom” joke he won't understand for at least a few more years.)
Mimi: “You should be Cat Woman.”
Alex: “YEAH! Catwoman!
Me: “Oh, I don't know, guys.”
Alex: “Or Poison Ivy! You love plants so much – so does she!”
Me: “Well, I don't have the red hair for it – maybe next year?”
Mimi: “You could always get a wig!”
Me: “Wigs look weird on me.”
Alex: “Okay, than YOU'RE Cat Woman.”
Me: “Sighs. Um, well. Yeah. Okay.”
Which means that on Halloween night, I'm going to have to cobble something together resembling Cat Woman. I've got the liquid eyeliner and the eye shadow, but I lack a tail or any cat ears.
We'll see if I can pull it off.
If not, I can always dress as a cat BURGALER. Now THAT'S a nice wholesome costume.
What were YOUR kids for Halloween this year?