Super Dad

Every parent is a superhero.

Now that I’ve had a puppy for a while I feel as though I’ve graduated to become a member of the “JV Justice League.” I remember my dad used to pull this move where he’d put a liquid chocolate topping on my brother and my ice cream, turn around and perform some sort of “Sundae sorcery” on our dessert and it would turn into a solid. As I’d later learn, the 3 ingredients required in becoming this culinary Copperfield were simply: Shell topping, stupid children and time.  As Sammy has been healing this week I’ve developed both superhuman hearing and night vision. I used to possess the ability to sleep through a mild nuclear holocaust (not sure there are levels to that) and over the past few days if Sammy decided to launch a nighttime gnawing on his cone, I’d (admittedly half awake) pop right up and snap his cone back in place in complete darkness with the speed and skill of Doris from your Nana’s Nocturnal Knitting Club. Those who know me best, know that to say I have fine motor skills, you’d pronounce the word “fine” with the sassiness of a child who knows they won’t be getting their way and if you had to put all your money on either me or a pre-child labor law factory working 8 year old fresh off a 48 hour shift to button up a shirt faster, we all know your money is going on the lethargic latter lad.

 I feel as though I’ve hit on a major aspect of adult living because I’m able to move my mentality from “I haven’t slept well these past few days” to “I’ve acquired a new skill” and the fact that I’ve arrived at the conclusion “I think I might be a superhero” may not be the most dignified destination, I feel as though in this journey of life, I’m at least headed the right way.