My Daddy, the Superhero

When I was younger, I lost things. A lot.

Sometimes it was my homework, my book bag, my shoes, my show-and-tell object that I just HAD to show everyone at school. If it was something I really needed, then magically it was missing.

I would tear up the house looking for whatever it was. In the midst of my frenzy, my dad would look up from reading the paper.

“What are you looking for, big girl?”

“My ___,” I’d say, on the verge of tears.

He’d carefully fold the paper, get up, walk across the room, and kiss me on the forehead. “Well, it’s gotta be here somewhere, right? You go to bed. I’ll look for it. You’ll have it in the morning.”

And every morning after he effectively erased all my worry, I’d wake up and see whatever it was I’d been searching for. He found it.

I learned later that sometimes it was an easy find (between the couch cushions) but sometimes it took all night (well, a few hours). But it didn’t matter. My dad always came through.

I used to look at my daddy in awe. He was like a superhero and his magic talent was finding my homework in the backseat of the car when I swore I brought it in the house.

I write this post to say that sometimes we as parents worry about the big things – making enough money, living in the right neighborhood, spending enough time with our kids. Without a doubt, those things are important.

But let’s not forget all those little reasons – your knack for imitating any cartoon voice, your special blueberry pancakes, or the fact that you always read your kids a bedtime story even when you’re dog tired – that your kids think you’re a superhero.