My grandson screeches around the room, his dark blue cape flies like a flag behind him.
“Quick,” he says in a flutter of little feet and hands, “on the couch.”
Because of course everyone knows that it takes a couch to make one safe from the wicked beings invading our world.
“Get your feet out of the water!”
We scrunch together, our knees folded to our chests, and wait until the unseen evil passes. He pauses long enough for me to capture his little being and squeeze. No time to waste, he wiggles free from my arms and is off again, playing out images in his head only he can see.
If real superpowers looked so cute…