When I was growing up, you had comic books, cartoons and action figures to revere the superheroes. Kid's were given an animated snese of right and wrong, good and evil. There were the Superheroes, and then there were the villains.
Yesterday I was viciously and unprovokingly attacked by Superman. Apparently my local notoriety of being quite the Super Rent-A-Cop (the term "super" here is self-aggrandizing, yes, but its my story, and thusly my reality. Deal with it!) has offended this special class of superheroes I looked up to as a young boy.
Or maybe it was the fact that Superman, having had his likeness super-imposed on a pair of underwear for a 5 year old offended him. Maybe the thought of baing plastered to the butt of Buggy, and then haphazardly discarded onto the floor about 2feet from the pile of dirty laundry, instead of being prized and coveted (much like my GI JOE with the kung fu grip) has caused Superman to make the decision to leap into action.
While walking innocently from my bedroom to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee for my wife and I, Superman nefariously placed himself right under my foot. My big toe caught itself in the elastic waistband. As I continued to step forward, my rear foot came down on the backside of the dragging superhero underwear. In what can only be described as an amazing sense of balance and athletic prowess by yours truly, I narrowly avoided sling-shotting my face into the living room carpet. I'm not sure of the mechanics, but then again, I can only pretend to understand the capabilities of an underwear adorned superhero.
With the quick ninja-like reactions I was born with, I saved myself from a very embarrasing self face planting. I quickly throttled the slightly dirty Superman underwear and gave him his very own sling-shot ride into the dirty laundry pile in retribution for his grave error in tangling with The Mookie.
Once again, I saved my own day!!