What makes a superhero?
Recently Jonathan has been calling himself Batman. Emma is usually either Robin, Catwoman, or Superman – depending on the day. But on the car ride back from preschool on Thursday, Jonathan announced, “I’m not a superhero anymore. I’m just a kid now.”
Me: “What made you not a superhero anymore?”
Jonathan: “Kisses and hugs.”
Me (wondering what exactly had happened at preschool that day!): “Who gave you kisses?”
Jonathan: “No one.”
Me: “Who gave you hugs, then?”
Jonathan: “No one.”
Me: “Oh, so how did you get kisses and hugs to make you not a superhero anymore?”
Jonathan: “Moses [his baby doll] blew a kiss downstairs into the kitchen and into my nose.” (Pause.) “And she blew a hug into my mouth. And it made me not a superhero anymore.”
Emma (sounding like she’s crying now): “I’m not a superhero anymore, either.”
Jonathan: “Yeah. Your baby kissed you too. We’re not superheroes anymore. But that’s OK. It’s good. We wanted to be kids again. Huh?”
Emma (sounding happy again now): “Yeah. We wanted to be kids again.”