My father does not have a red cape in his closet. I’m certain because I looked once, when I was five. “There has to be one in here somewhere,” I told my friend. “My dad is the REAL Superman. He’s always there at the perfect time, and he makes everything better. He can probably fly, too.” But instead of a cape, all I found were some Rolling Stones T-shirts and a pair of red Reebok High-Tops. Even as a five-year old, I knew this was a fashion “don’t.” However, being the good daughter that I am, I covered for him. “See! His Superman shoes are here!” She didn’t buy a word of it.
He may not have a cape, but to me, my daddy is a Superhero. He’s the strongest man I know. Invincible. He knows the answer to every question, especially about the really important stuff like family, finances, and fertilizer. He mended my broken bike and my broken heart. He grilled the perfect hamburgers and my not-so-perfect boyfriends. And every time we talk, he always tells me “I love you more.” I ‘d tell him it’s not possible, but I can’t argue with Superman.
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