When my little girl was a little girl, she wanted
the same, simple, uncluttered and achievable future every little
girl desires: to be a superhero ninja princess rock star spy. While
most of that fell along the wayside as she blew through her days,
she did accomplish one of her goals.
Briefly, for a day, for an afternoon, my daughter was the
greatest superhero the world has ever known.
Being a young lady of the post-information-age-age, my
daughter, Sarah, knew she had to have some accessories if she was
to be a proper super hero. First on the list was a cape. Next was a
logo. Third was a catchy name.
Being an old man of the
pre-information-post-information-transition-age, I knew this was
kind of awesome. At 3, she already knew the importance of
marketing. But first, a cape.
A pillowcase quickly was dispatched. I tied it around her
neck and she launched herself into the stratosphere, flying around
the living room and kitchen in a low orbit, making shushing noises
as she skimmed clouds and looked down on creation with a knowing,
wise, battle-hardened gaze.
Next was the logo. It had to go right in the middle of the
cape, which she assumed was valuable and approached me tacitly with
an idea that she might keep the cape, to which I agreed. She
grabbed some markers, dropped down in front of the TV and went to
Her cousin already had begun her own superhero career as
Bingo the Saver Dog. That she is non-canine never was an issue.
Never even occurred to me. Of course she's Bingo the Saver Dog. She
drew a dog wearing a cape on her cape. Voilà, a superhero is
But Sarah was more pragmatic, and decided since she was
the superhero, she should use her own name. But SARAH is not
terribly catchy. It needed punch. It needed pizazz. Obviously,
SUPER SARAH. She tried it out. Flew dejectedly around the foyer. It
She landed in the living room, leaped onto the couch,
copped a stance and cried out her new name: ABSOLUTELY SUPER
Now this was it. This was a name with legs. There could be
only one! She was absolute!
She dropped down into a hunker before the TV and knocked
out her logo, a wonderfully minimal ligature graphic of the
initials of her superheroic moniker: A-bsolutely S-uper S-arah, in
5-inch Sharpie caps, flipped her cape around her shoulders and
rocketed out the front door, down the sidewalk, past all of our
elderly, retired schoolteacher neighbors who couldn't manage poor
gerund usage, much less the acronym my absolutely super daughter
was sporting on her rippling cape.
For a day, for an afternoon, my girl was a superhero who
flew around our 'hood with A.S.S. written on her back.
Christopher lives in Chicago with his wife and kids and can also be found at deathbychildren.com.
See more of Christopher's stories here.
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