Superheroes are big in our house. Elliott is obsessed with midichlorian-infused, lightsaber-wielding Jedi and the girls wake up every morning ready to battle to the death for who gets to be Elsa for the day and do the best power ballad of “Let It Go.” They scream at each other to hold the notes the right length and nail the hand motions. If they focus their mind beams hard enough, they know they can make a gigantic snow monster and control the weather.
I’d judge them, except I melt into the basement couch watching Buffy kick the forces of darkness into a nether realm and secretly root for Loki just a little bit when he’s playing his evil tricks on poor Thor. Just for a second. That little mischievous grin gets me every time.
Superpowers are fun and cool and we spend hours around here making up new ones. Alas, the kids still haven’t gotten behind my Vegetable-Eating superpower. Also not popular, Laundry Folding Ninja Skills, the power to Clean Your Freaking Room, and Throwing Band-Aids in the Trash Can, the Flipping Trash Can. Seriously, if I peel one more crusty Band-Aid off the kitchen counter/floor/sleeve of a princess costume I will use my laser eye beams to incinerate the offending boo-boo owner on the spot.
Yesterday in our turbo-accelerating raptor-van, Evie busted out with possibly the best power ever invented.
“I’m gonna save everybody with my eat-it power.”
Her eat-it power. I had to ask.
“That’s so awesome! Honey, what’s your eat-it power?”
In general, I’ve been taught that telling people to “eat it” is rude, but somehow coming out of the mouth of a four-year-old it sounded endearing.
“My power is eating the tornadoes.”
I’m awash in a wave of loving this nutty girl. She’s terrified of storms. I mean, brain sizzling in a pan melt-down cannot handle a raindrop terrified. And her solution is to develop a tornado-eating superpower. Problem solved.
So if you run into her and she’s screaming “Eat it!” please don’t take offense. Thank her for saving you from a fate of Technicolor Munchkins in the Land of Oz.
