You’d think pretending to be Superman around the house wouldn’t lead to getting a whooping. Especially since Supes is arguably the ultimate do-gooder.
When I was a child, I spent a lot of time imagining myself as Superman flying though the sky. Each time I did this I had a cape on.
The problem was my cape was never an actual cape.
I would tie long-sleeved shirts around my neck. If I wore short sleeves, I’d just pull my arms out and dangle the shirt over my back. That was my least favorite.
I spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house growing up. When we’d sit down to eat my grandmother would drape a towel over my chest to prevent me from spilling food on my clothes. She secured the towel behind my neck with a clothes pin.
Often seconds after she’d do this I’d rotate the pin to the front so that the towel dangled behind me, then run into the living room and “fly” on to the couch.
“Get back up to this table before I whoop your butt!” she’d shout, sometimes laughing afterward because I looked and behaved so ridiculously.
What would really tick my grandmother off, though? I consistently swiped her dish towels to use as my Superman cape.
She’d be set to dry dishes only to notice it missing. Grandma always knew where to locate it. The towel was tucked into the back of my shirt as I flew around Metropolis.
A butt whooping wouldn’t hurt the real Superman. |THIS.
[By Mr. Joe Walker]
BLACK is a 9-chapter series that deals with race, social perspective, and inclusion. Each entry is based on real life events.
