“Hey momma, do we have any crip-tite?” Garrett hopped up on a stool next to the kitchen counter.
“I’m not sure what that is so I don’t guess we do.” Mom pointed at the plate of cookies in front of Garrett. “Don’t get into those cookies. I told you earlier that you’ve had enough.”
“Crip-tite is the stuff that makes super heroes powerless.”
“Oh. I think you mean Kryptonite. No, we don’t have any of that around here. And I think it only works on Superman.”
Garrett straightened the mask covering his eyes. “Only Superman?”
“Yeah, the other superheroes have their own weaknesses.”
“Well,” Mom stopped washing dishes to think for a moment. “I think the Green Lantern was powerless against yellow, or maybe it was Aquaman…”
“Oh, I see. Like that movie Iron Man, he couldn’t do anything without the power for his super suit.”
“Exactly. What about you, Robin. Do you have a weakness?” Mom smiled at Garrett as she spoke, admiring his homemade super suit.
“I’m not Robin, Mom. I’m… The Dark Leopard!” Garrett stood on top of the stool poking his chest out as he announced his title.
Mom could see that he had put a lot of thought into his costume. The mask was of the plastic variety with a simple elastic band around the back. He wore black sweat pants and a black tee shirt accented by a pair of leopard print underwear worn over the sweat pants.
“I don’t think bad guys have weaknesses. We just try to stop the superheroes.”
“Oh,” Mom replied, unsure of how to take this news. “So you’re a villain?”
“Not just a villain, Mom, a super villain! Can you think of any more weaknesses that superheroes have?” Garrett sat down again with his elbows resting on the counter and his face screwed up in deep contemplation.
“No. I’m not really up to date on superheroes. You should ask your dad when he gets back from the store.”
“That’s a good idea. But what about you, mom?”
“What do you mean?”
“What is your weakness? You said all superheroes have one.” Garrett looked at her with a serious, intent face.
“You’re sweet,” Mom said as she patted his head with her hand. She put her hand on her chin as if she were thinking. “I’d have to say my kryptonite is little-boy-hugs.”
Garrett smiled, hopped down from the stool and trotted around the counter. He stretched his arms out and squeezed his already-waiting mom.
Mom held him close enjoying the brief moment. “You’re a super hugger, son.”
“Thanks, mom,” Garrett replied, continuing to hug her for a bit longer than usual. “Do you think I could I have just one more cookie?”