The best part was the text above it: “The Real Super Family: No Villains Allowed.”
The town gossip mill exploded.
Texts and calls poured in, some subtle, others openly gleeful about Isla’s costume scheme backfiring. Memes started making the rounds on social media.
Even Roger’s mother called it “deliciously appropriate” at her weekly bridge club. The local coffee shop started serving a “Super Family Special” of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.
Dan found me in the kitchen that evening, staring at my phone as another supportive message came through.
This one from his father’s secretary, of all people.
“You know,” he said, grinning at me with a glint in his eyes, “I’ve never been prouder to be married to a superhero.”
I leaned back against him, watching Tommy and Jake play superheroes in the backyard through our kitchen window. “Someone had to stand up to the villains.”
“Mom! Dad!” Tommy called from outside.
“Come play with us! I’m Superman, and Jake’s Spider-Man now!”
“That’s not how it works!” Jake protested. “We can’t mix superhero worlds.”
“We can in our family,” Tommy declared.
“We make our own rules!”
We joined our boys in the yard, capes flying, our laughter echoing off the fence.
At that moment, I realized something important: Isla might have designer costumes and a mansion, but we had a family that was actually super, not just playing dress-up.
Do you have any opinions on this? 🤔
