brutes

Oh.

OH!!

OH MY GOOD HEAVENS!!!! I just love the interweb!

Just think. You can wake up on a lovely Monday, make your coffee, drink 16 cups while you're reading the Bible and waiting for the rest of your family to wake up, feed everyone breakfast, start some laundry, feel mildly accomplished, because, ya know, you just love Mondays. You are that freak of nature who doesn't really like the weekends, but absolutely thinks Monday is the greatest day of the week.

You've come to grips with your strangeness. It's ok with you now. It's who you are, and you embrace it.

You have lunch. Make some more coffee. Get your husband's clothes ready for work. Do other stuff, accomplish other things. Put the kids down for a nap. Kiss above-mentioned husband goodbye for the evening as he leaves for work.

It's been a good day.

So you decide to reward yourself with a 86th cup of coffee, and a little bit of web surfing.

Next thing you know, you're a super hero.

Yeah, you read that correctly. Confused? Let me show you what I mean:


Oh, yeah. I made me into a super hero. Now, my hair would be much longer (it's almost down to my waist, despite the 4 inches we took off last month), my boots would have some major heels on them, and (sorry, Mom, I have to say it) well, I've had three kids. My rack just isn't that great. And I don't consider myself lumbering, even if I am fairly incredible.

However, I'm all for hitting people with a club. Honestly. Anyone can shoot anyone else. Me included. I have and love guns. But it takes real finesse to beat someone down with a club. I'm just saying.
But that wasn't enough for me. No. I was not finished.

'What more could there be?' you ask. 'This chick is already such a freak. What more could she find?'

Everyone knows you can't fight crime, with a club, alone.



You had to have seen that one coming. It looks JUST LIKE JOHN. He's even ancient!! Doesn't that picture look just like Leonidas from 300? It totally does, doesn't it? I know!! People at work call him Leonidas. This looks JUST LIKE HIM. I'm not kidding.

Well, his head's not that small compared to his body. And he told me one time when we were talking about super heroes (because we don't have three kids and land and chickens and things to do. We have all the time in the world to debate DC v Marvel, and who would win in a fight between hero A and hero B, and then he tells me I can't make up super heroes, and I think I can. He's wrong. But I digress.) that even if he was a super hero, he would never wear tights. But he sometimes looks like he wants to hit people with a big, wooden club.

Don't tell him I told you that. Wouldn't want him to take out the clubby anger on me. Because did you SEE me? I could totally kick his ass.

But seriously! We have matching capes!!! How freaking awesome is that? We're like the hottest crime fighting husband-and-wife duo ever. I wonder what cool powers our kids will inherit from us? (No, David, falling down is not a super power. You do recover surprisingly quickly, though. I'll have to think about that one. "Look, in the sky! It's ... Healing Boy!" Nah. Just doesn't have that ring to it. Sorry.)

So I love the internet. Because you can go to the website The Hero Factory. And suddenly, your average nice day becomes utterly amazing and fantastic, because know you know that when someone messes with you on the phone, or cuts you off in traffic, or is really rude to you in the line at the HEB, you're just being benevolent by not responding. Because you're a super hero.

They'd best learn to respect, if they know what's good for them. I'm just saying.

Because you could totally kick their ass.