I've always wanted to be a Superhero
. It was hard growing up as the smallest girl
on the block, and I was hopelessly uncoordinated
(I never learned to cook
because my parents were afraid to let me near sharp objects
). I would have loved to be a Tomboy
, but lacked the requisite baseball
skills. It's simply laughable when I try to spit
, no distance at all. The obvious answer seemed to be that I should gain super powers
I tried everything. Flying was first on the list, but jumping off the roof with a towel-cape just lead to a sprained ankle. Then I tried talking to animals, but I could hardly get my dog to sit, much less get her to speak a comprehensible language. Breathing underwater was a disaster, my mother assured me that I wasn't an Amazon princess, and the sun's light didn't endow me with anything but a burn. After months of trying, I had to give up and just accept that I would never be able to shoot laser beams out of my eyes.
Twelve years later, hope was renewed. Last night, I was walking to my car and I got bitten by a spider. Within minutes, my whole arm had begun to throb and tingle. Then, it turned bright purple. Although my overly anxious fiancee rushed me to the Emergency Room, I knew that I was simply turing into a purple skinned web-slinger! Yes, I would at last have the super strength and agility of my youthful dreams. Plus, climbing walls is better than spitting any day.
It turns out I was just having a severe allergic reaction. After sitting in the ER for two hours, a sleepy looking doctor nonchalantly gave me some antihistamines and steroids. The throbbing slowed, the sensation returned to my fingers, and the color faded back to my pasty shade. My true potential has been stifled by the foolish doctor's "miracle drugs."
So here I sit. I'm still just a mild-mannered copy editor, but now my arm is sore. I shall have to devise a new means of becoming a defender of the world. Perhaps I can coax the spiders from my yard into sitting close to the microwave for a while...