Why should a fictional comic book character be looking out for something? Because, I think his story may be coming to real life.

I apparently have a budding Batman.

I got home, after a frustrating day at work, ready for one of my best things that I all ‘Day boosters’,  things that I can do that make my day entirely better and more awesome.  The best one is of course, playing with my son currently a year and a half old.  As I walked through the back door, hearing the usual cry from my wife of “Daddy’s Home!” and the small pattering of feet toward the top of a short flight of stairs connecting the back end of my house from the kitchen, or leading down into the basement.  I stepped up into the kitchen, where my son stood waiting for me, though, after picking him up, I turned and noticed my wife standing right there, purse in hand.  I was told she made a last minute hair appointment, and it was Boys Night, as she was shopping afterwards.

Hells yeah.

After an extremely messy dinner of Annies Organic Spaghetti O’s, a quick bath and dry down.  My newly naked son, squealing, running around in birthday suit delight as I collected a new diaper and stood before the most important of decisions.  What pajamas to wear.  Knowing my wife would have objected because it’s not warm enough for him during the winter, I went with his Batman pajamas anyway.  After we settled into the routine of playing with the massively disorganized amount of toys littered throughout our living room, and spilling into the dining room. I saw something for the first time, which he had apparently picked up only the day before.

Well, because he likes to be a ‘helper’ putting small stuff in the garbage, turning on the vacuum, and trying to use our big broom, we bought him a cleaning set for Christmas.  Though, what I did notice was that he had torn off the heads on the small toy plastic broom and mop.  He was wielding two, probably, two foot long plastic sticks, now, you have a recipe for disaster.   Though, to my amusement, he lifted up a leg and starting swinging the two sticks violently all over the place, assaulting walls, the couch, he was making his way toward the TV, swinging madly toward it, luckily, I diverted him toward a chair.  As I witnessed how bad of an idea it was to let this continue, I couldn’t hide the smirks and smiles on my face.  I stood there, staring down at my son, full Batman pajamas (including attached cape) swinging madly as whatever stood before him, a crazy, ‘Oh man this is fun’ look on his face.  Eventually, I would lapse into pretending to be the ‘Joker’, doing badly done lines from The Dark Knight movie.  Though, after getting whacked in the head too many times, and him taking too much enjoyment out of it, I had to take his newly found weapons away.

As he stood there, motionless, crying, tears flowing from his eyes as I took his newest toys away storing them in the closet far out of his reach, I knelt in front of him.  Offering words of fatherly advice, I could only say a short line to calm him, “Son, Batman doesn’t cry, he loses something, he plots another way to have fun at their expense.  Lets have some BaBa, and go NightNight.”

It was a perfect night indeed.