Gravity

When I was 8 I spent much of my time defying the law of gravity. The white towel tied around my neck morphed into a flowing red cape and I, running faster than a speeding bullet, took off gracefully and soared high into the sky.

The people waved, glad to know I was watching over them, and I waved back as I patrolled the city. I would do all of the usual stuff…putting out fires, rescuing silly kittens from trees, smashing giant killer robots…until my mother made me come in for lunch.

“Where did you go?” she would ask after I glided down from the heavens and walked into the door from the backyard.

“Metropolis,” I’d answer, a bit miffed that I’d had to cut off my patrol in order to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“That’s nice, baby,” she would reply. “Just don’t get my towel dirty.”

I always just sighed and rolled my eyes…my mother was the smartest woman in the world but she just didn’t get it…and went to the bathroom to wash my hands.

After lunch my teammates…Wonder Woman (Renee) and Batman (Lloyd)…came over and we would spend the afternoon defying the law of gravity, saving silly kittens, keeping the world safe from giant killer robots…and making sure we didn’t get our mothers’ towels dirty.

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