I remember thinking that I could make a parachute out of a sheet, or make working wings out of garbage bags and sticks. The sense that those things are easy and possible has been ripped out of me by adulthood, but now my son is starting to rekindle the spirit of possibilities. He puts on my favorite red hoodie like it is special and magical. Even though he hasn't figured out how to say "I love you mommy" stuff like that totally makes up for it.
Even makes up for the sword whipping frenzies he gets into with the long piece of foam batting (he happens to be attacking everything in site at the moment).
At least my poor old dog has figured out how to hide when Richard goes into super hero mode.
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