I bought myself a Super Hero Kit the other day. Yes, you read that right. The contents of the kit are as follows:

~ A Super identity-hiding mask (Red with black lightning bolts on either side)

~ A ’Special-Person’ sticker to proudly display on my super vehicle. (Though
I suspect that others may view that as short bus kind of special)

~ A celebratory horn for those after-lifesaving parties (Said parties for us
superhero types only)

~ A handsome superhero award (Suitable for framing)

~And a handy instruction booklet on becoming a super hero (Complete with
the super hero secret oath and several brain-boggling quizzes)

All that is left is to pick out a cool, superhero name. A name that at once strikes fear in the hearts of evildoers everywhere, yet inspires confidence and pride in everyday common folk. Something majestic. Something pure. The kind of name that Batman would wish he’d thought of first.

I have no special powers that I am aware of, and no super suit came with the kit. Quickly donning a Winnie-the-Pooh kitchen towel as a cape, I leapt through the door and out into the chill night. My senses tingled as I sought out crime. To the left a dog barked, while overhead the moon crossed behind a cloud. Rounding a corner I came across certain wrongdoers, leaning beneath the hood of a car, assuredly fiddling with some sort of doo-dad for the sole purpose of wreaking havoc.

“Stop, Fiends!” I cried with my best superhero voice. Without hesitation, I slammed the hood down upon them and leapt back, prepared for battle.

“What’s the matter with you?” My neighbor The Nefarious Steve exclaimed. “Who are you supposed to be in that get-up?”

I adjusted my identity-hiding mask and repositioned my kitchen towel cape. Thinking swiftly I said, “I am Pooh Man”

Their gale force laughter filled the night as I went back to my not-so-secret house and packed my superhero kit away safely. I will live to fight another day, but not in my own neighborhood, not where people know me.