It was 70 degrees yesterday. I never miss an opportunity to show off my calves so I put on some shorts and took Ada to the park. (Clarification: when I said calves, I meant the shapely leg muscles behind my shins and not a herd of baby cows. I thought when I said ‘put on shorts’ coupled with the fact that I do not live on a farm you would probably figure that out but that is the problem with homonyms, you can never be too safe.) Ada and I arrived at the park only to find that everyone in town had the same idea. We circled the parking lot a few times before finding a spot and then stood in line next to the swings for about 5 minutes waiting our turn. After a while, I leaned down and asked Ada if she wanted to go to the walking trail since she wasn’t playing on anything. She did.
This walking trail goes through the woods and was pretty secluded. We had been walking for a while and hadn’t seen anyone when we rounded a bend, and there in the middle of the pathway, was a young boy, probably 6 or 7. He was standing with his black cowboy boots spread shoulder width apart, hands on his hips, chest bowed out and wearing a Superman t-shirt complete with a cape flowing heroically in the breeze. He appeared to be alone in the middle of the woods.
“Hey buddy, are your parents around?” He swiftly extended his right arm, palm facing me. I thought he was trying to give me a high five but just wasn’t very good at it, until he suddenly yelled. “HALT, you evildoers!” I was taken aback. I decided I should just leave him alone and go around him, so with Ada’s hand tucked into mine I slid to the left to pass. He slid with us. I went back to the right. He went back to the right. He wasn’t letting us go by and appeared to be willing to use force if necessary.
I wasn’t sure how to remove myself from the situation. He didn’t seem to have a parent or guardian around to control him, and I wasn’t ready to risk to punching a 7yr old. Yet. I decided that Ada and I should just turn around and walk back towards the entrance. Superman followed us. I didn’t have to look back, his cowboy boots clonking on the pathway behind us served as a reminder that he was still there…watching.
We finally came to a little rest area with a raised garden whose edges doubled as concrete benches. I thought Ada and I could sit down and see what Superman did next. Superman hopped up on the cement bench and walked it like a balance beam. We sat there for a while until eventually an older gentleman caught up to us. It was Superman’s granddad and as he got closer, it all became clear as to why he couldn’t keep up with young Superman. And it wasn’t because this Superman was faster than a speeding bullet; I don’t think you can be faster than a speeding bullet while wearing cowboy boots. Unless you’re Chuck Norris. Superman’s granddad had a prosthetic leg. It was just like Lieutenant Dan’s except the top portion of his was decorated like a zebra. I leaned down and told Ada he would have probably been more likely to keep up had he painted his prosthetic leg like a cheetah, get it? She didn’t.
Hopefully you can click on the picture and see the wonderfully intricate zebra print detail. And the jorts.Dwight: And in conclusion, I think Lex Luthor said it best when he said, "Dad, you have no idea what I'm capable of."
3 comments:
Wait a minute...is there something wrong with jorts?
I'm serious - should I quit wearing them?
I didn't know they made prosthetic legs in zebra print! I will have to tell my Mom, she has a prosthetic leg...but without a cool design. I am thinking zebra print would look better on her than this dude!
Yeah, zebra print really does make everything better. Even jorts, Ricky.
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