I actually fancied myself one yesterday. You see, snow had been falling all weekend long, but yesterday was beautiful and sunny and a holiday, so we decided to take our son sledding with some friends. Because kids love sledding. And since we will only live in South Dakota for a few years I thought we should take advantage of all there is to offer. At least that was my reasoning when I planed the outing.
Then I really thought about what we were taking our little child to do, and suddenly I saw less fun and more stitches, concussions, and broken bones on the hills that were once covered in feet of soft fluffy snow, but after much use had turned into steep tracks of solid ice. I realized if I was going to let my son do this (because I can't hold his childhood hostage to my neurotic ability to see the worst possible conclusion to any given situation), I was going to have to bring my A-game to the slopes. Just in case. Nevermind the fact that we were going with friends from my husband's work which meant there were no less than four military doctors and pilots present. Clearly none of them would have the right kind of training for an emergency. So I donned my old Marvel T-shirt, the one with Ironman, Thor, Captain America, the Hulk and Wolverine (yes I really do own this shirt and I really did wear it), and I stuck my first aid kit in the car (just in case one of the doctor bags was missing something), along with fruit snacks and juiceboxes for those hunger/whining emergencies. I then found my sweetest pair of sunglasses for surveying the slopes with my super-tuned, paranoid mommy vision. I was ready!
The slopes were crowded, very crowded. Good thing I'd come prepared. I was vigilant! Rarely taking my eyes off the scene, only allowing myself to be mildly distracted by the other women there and --"Oh what's that you say? You're throwing a baby shower? Ooo, can I help?!" CRASH !! Yep, it was a big one, but by the time I noticed it there was already a doctor on scene checking for concussions and stanching the bleeding. Fortunately the only resulting injuries were a bruises and scrapes. I am happy to report that I did save the day later on when I warmed up my sons little hands. They were freezing, and he was crying. That is until I sacrificed my own warm hands to cover his little popsicle ones. Then I gave him a juice box and patted his head, pretty much saving the day and the entire trip. Ah the life of a superhero.
When we got home my son, or Spidybatwalker, as I like to call him (because he likes to mix and match his superhero dressups), asked me to draw a superhero for him. This is a common request, and I usually just draw some generic muscled man and let him color and fill in the details. Earlier in the day he had completed an orange Batman. But this time I was feeling a little heroic, so I decided to draw a woman which may or may not have had similar coloring and features as me, though I did take a little license with the flat stomach and toned arms. I also added a Tinkerbell tutu (because I would not be caught dead in only spandex) and colored in the picture for him. I was curious to see what he would think. He made a few additions to the drawing and told me he loved it. So I present to you Vry ("Varee" he says). She is twenty years old (woohoo) and has purple powers (not powers that are purple, but the power of purple! I hear it's a great one.).