SUPERMAN SON
© 1990 by Lisa Dietz
Everyday he reminds me
that when he grows up, he's going to be Superman.
He's already practicing flying,
running toward the couch
and leaping onto it
face turned toward me in that magic moment of suspension,
grinning with wild freedom.
He plays quietly
except when I'm on the phone,
with a guest,
reading a book
or trying to catch the end of a movie.
Then I can be certain to be barraged
with imminent questions
Ma, why are there lines in the road?
Ma, do all bad guys turn good?
Ma, do you know what time it is on other worlds?
Ma, do you know that letters make you learn to read?
Ma, can't I have just one more treat?
That's always the last question as I huff out an exhausted "yes,"
and he smiles, ever so pleased with himself.
And just when I think I have him under control and well behaved,
he reminds me that HE is the only one in the house
who can stand up to pee.