Superheroes Are for Adults, Too

When my brother and I were little, we made absolutely everything into an elaborate game. We made up superhero names for ourselves. I was Tornado Boy and my brother was Storm Boy. We were awesome.

We took the whole “Step on a crack, break your mother’s back” thing to a whole ‘notha level. The cracks were laser sensors. Atypically colored tiles were faulty bricks that, if stepped on, would give out to a pit of boiling lava. Video cameras in department stores had to be avoided or else our arch nemesis Crystal Head would know where we were.

The best part about all of this was how efficient we were at making the mundane into something awesome. Trips to get new shoes turned into getting new superhero equipment Batman-style. Trips to warehouses became secret missions into our enemies’ hidden lairs.

I was thinking about all of this the other day as I was doing random chores around my apartment. It wasn’t glamorous or cool; it was just boring.

I think kid brains have the whole life thing figured out.

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