My Superhero

I had the opportunity to take my two youngest children out with me on my errands this past Friday. The day started out slowly as I had awakened much later than I had anticipated. While attempting to ignite a fire under my young ones to get dressed and cleaned up, I found myself frustrated and tense when we couldn’t find the proverbial “other shoe” or “matching sock”. (I swear there is a troll that enters my house at night and steals away any matching piece of garment in my house just to play with my mind!)

 After finding an alternate pair of shoes and a sock that matched “good enough”, I loaded my children in the very hot, un-airconditioned, old, beat up van we call ‘transportation.’ After buckling my 4 year old into his seat in the very back, he attempts (for the umpteenth time) to ascertain his chances of receiving a toy on today’s venture out into the ‘real world.’ I pretend I don’t hear his repeated plea as I then, with sweat pouring off my brow, buckle my 5yr old into the second row of our sweltering rust bucket. By this time, the 5yr old puts on her prettiest eyelash beater and shoots a glance up to me with one little finger on her lip and asks, “Mom, if we be good, may we pweeeeeze get a toy today? It would be oh so nice! And, Mom? I wuv you so so so much!” After I take a deep breath and roll my eyes to the back of my head, I begin to stand, only to knock my head on the roof of the van.

At this point I just grab my hair, grumble, and step out. Shutting the sliding door, I rush to the driver side to get in. I hurry and turn on the van so I may roll down the windows before we all suffocate from heat exhaustion. As the windows roll down, I feel the hot breeze rush in, and, for a brief moment, I relax and enjoy the movement of air, the warmth on my aching back from the sun-baked seat, and the fact that I had accomplished the first part of today’s mission (gathering the kids and strapping them in for the ride).

As we pull away from the drive at our home, I hear a panicked voice from the rear of the van. “Mom, huwwy!” I answer. “What, baby?” “Oh, Mom, I see da evil is behind us!” At this point I know the score. My little 4 year old son is enamored with superheroes and evil doers. From Power Rangers, to Spiderman, Ninja Turtles, The Incredibles, etc., my son is imagining we are the superheroes and we must SAVE THE WORLD!

I assure my son. “Okay, we can do this, son! I’m throwing our supervan into mega speed!” Glancing back at my son in the rear-view mirror, I see his face crack a knowing smile, then a look of seriousness crosses his 4 year old face. “I got my ‘phasows’ out and I’m gonna shoot him, mama! Shhp….shhhp…pwwwwwwk….pwwwwwwk….he makes the sounds of the phasers and guns that he’s engaging to annihilate the enemy. “Good going, my son!” I shout proudly to the rear as I swerve the van ever so slightly to give the illusion that I am struggling with the evil forces as well.

Meanwhile, my daughter, sitting between her half-baked mother and terribly excited brother pipes up. “Um, I’ll just be the baby sister, ok?” I acknowlege her station. “Ok, hon.” (My 5yr old daughter would MUCH rather be playing “house” or “doctor” at this point, but what could I do? The evil doers were still attacking me and my family?)

My son begins shouting again. “Mom! You gotta put it into hypow mode and shoot out da back guns! And qwick!” I thank my son for reminding me of my duties. “Ok, son, here we go!” At this point I take my foot off the gas pedal and then back on again, just enough to make the van feel as though there were a tug (as in hypermode) and I make noises like I am pressing buttons and shooting out the rear of the van…..pwwwweewwwr…pwwwwwweeeeeerrrrr……shukkk….shuuuuukkkkkkk! My son finally cries out. “We got ‘em, Mom! Good Job!”

Now it’s time for Mom to crack a knowing smile; satisfied the world was saved for another day.

I’ve thought a lot about that moment in our old van. I was hot, tired, feeling just as old, beat up, and used as the van we were riding in. My frustration level was high and I just wanted to get the day over with, until my toddler son reminded me of something very important. He reminded me that there is always evil behind us, and if we allow that evil to catch up with us, it could ruin us, it could hurt us, it could make us forget what’s really important in life. That day, the evil was my mental garbage and I thank God that my son, my superhero, (even for just a moment in time) was there to pick up the garbage and carry it away for me. Thanks, baby!

Nikki Lynne