Ever since the kids discovered superheroes, they’ve been fascinated with them. We talk about them, we make up our own, we play the “what power would beat what power” game… In fact, for my six year old’s last birthday we had everyone dress up as superheroes.

Some time during this whole mishmash of heroism, the kids discovered that kryptonite beats Superman. Suddenly, kryptonite was very important. After all, if it could hurt Superman, it must be really dangerous. The kids didn’t believe me when I said that it only hurt Superman – and I didn’t really blame them.

One day, as we were playing superheroes, I tried to drag my wife into the game. “Look,” I said. “Momma is turning into a bad guy. She has kryptonite!”

Momma, unfortunately, was too busy to play, and we moved on.

Days later, we were sitting at the dinner table when my oldest suddenly announced “Momma has kryptonite!”

“No,” I said. “She’s not a bad guy.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I glanced at my wife.  She was wearing that “what did I do to end up with a family of boys” expression that she’s pretty much mastered.

“No, she’s not a bad guy,” I said.  “She’s a good guy.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “She’s a bad guy.”

“Momma,” his younger brother interrupted. “Are you a bad guy?”

She shook her head. “No.”

The little guy turned to me. “Momma said she’s a bad guy!”

“You’re a liar!” his momma said.

“Oh no,” he answered, throwing his arms in the air. “She said she’s a lion!”

“She’s sitting right here,” my wife gritted between her teeth. “And that’s not what I said.”

My oldest reached out to pat her hand. “Don’t get mad, Momma,” he said. “Daddy started it.”

Wait. What? Where’d that come from?