Most mornings when Jack wakes up, he says good morning. And then he says, “Will you play guys with me?” “Play guys” means we both choose a superhero action figure and begin acting out made-up stories with them. I like to say yes when I can. I get a kick out of the stories that emerge. This particular morning, the story turned unusually domestic. Starring Jack as Wonder Woman and me as a little-known superhero named Bishop . . .
Jack (as Wonder Woman): “Hi Bishop. It’s me, Wonder Woman. I love you. I love you, so I want to marry you.”
Me (as Bishop): “You do? Well, alright then.”
A small, sweet ceremony is played out on the living-room couch. The superheroes even smooch.
Wonder Woman: “Now we need a home.”
Bishop: “Well, I just happen to have built one for us right over here.”
“Cool. Now we need to have a baby.”
“Oh, a baby? Hmm. Um . . . what should we name our baby?”
“Um . . . well, we already had our baby. And now he’s all growed up. And his name is Wolverine!”