As a four year-old, Space Exploration was something I took seriously for a short time.
The wood pile could supply the resources to build a rocket but no rocket fuel and Dad said he needed all the tractor diesel. He also told me, ‘Things burn up when they leave the atmosphere.’ (no idea, but it sounded bad). So it was back to cowboys and indians, Native Americans for a while. That was until I discovered Superheroes, I tried Batman
but I realised I was an impostor, so the quest for a new Superhero began. Many boy superheroes were already taken such as Superboy and Robin, etc. I considered Daredevil Boy, but Daredevil was blind and my mum became increasingly worried for her ornaments as I crashed around with my eyes shut. Spiderboy was an option but I couldn’t get a spider to bite me, my mum and sister’s screams as I ran around with spiders crawling up my arm gave me the impression this was not a popular choice. Then I had it, Hawkboy, there was a Hawkman, but no boy. I developed a costume, a yellow polo neck and a pair of my mum’s old tights over a black pair of shorts with a cardboard mask (I wasn’t planning on leaving the atmosphere so cardboard would be fine.)
One August day an eight-year old and his mum are picking blackberries, she has no idea that her son is a Superhero and wearing his costume beneath his ordinary clothes. I knew there was going to be a crime wave that afternoon but, as I sank into a lethargic state of heat exhaustion I began to have doubts about said costume and confided in my mum. A mother’s intuition is a wonderful thing. Apparently she was aware of Hawkboy, but had no idea it was me. We discussed the possibilities of a crime wave on a farm that was five miles from the nearest village and then came up with a solution. If I was to change into my alter ego, Hawkboy he could assist this strange lady (as a superhero I had no recollection of who my mum was) by protecting her from the bramble thorns. During the day my mum pointed out to me that it was commendable to want to protect the planet but Roy Rogers and John Wayne never got covered in bramble thorn scratches. Maybe being a cowboy wasn’t such a bad gig after all. 😉
LOL. No but it was a good way for a mum to get some work out of you. 🙂
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Funny, when I think about we often played ‘working’. Thank you 😉
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Your mum sounds like an awesome person. Definitely laughing out loud on this one, starting with the first sentence. Probably nothing sums up a kid’s mind better than: I considered Daredevil Boy, but Daredevil was blind and my mum became increasingly worried for her ornaments as I crashed around with my eyes shut.
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Thank you, yes she was quite something. A bit of a card as well 😉
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Everyone needs a hero and only a few truly become one 🙂
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How very true and its strange who people choose as their heroes. 😉
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This is a truly lovely, affecting memory. Just very beautiful
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Thank you so much, I’m lucky to have them in away. 🙂
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So you inspired me… last poem. Northerners
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I have to go and investigate immediately. Thank you x
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The clue is the title ( Northerners)
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lovely story
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Thank you and thanks for reading 😉
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Hahahaha, sounds like you had quite an imagination! I was wonderwoman and ran around with a suitcase full of goodies that didn’t belong to me, old buttons, kitchen scissors and even my parent’s marriage certificate (don’t ask because I’m not sure myself) here;s to never letting go of our inner child 🙂
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Even better! (but marriage certificate that’s brilliant) As you say keep the inner child 😉
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Very interesting. Imagination can do wonders. Keep writing.
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Thank you 😀
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