I can remember getting up early in the morning on Saturday's to watch cartoons. My brother and I had bedrooms on the upper level of our old, creaky house, our parents' room was downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs was a hallway, at the end of that short hallway was the door to their bedroom. In the mornings we'd get up, sit on the top step of the blue carpeted stairway and contemplate our next move. Slowly, and ever so quietly we would scoot on our butts, stair by stair. Once we were safely at the bottom we'd tiptoe to the door, knock and ask if we could turn on the TV.
So, maybe it defeated the purpose of being so quite but it made sense at the time and it took planning and courage. Something all superheros need.
Often we'd get up and my brother would help dress me like a superhero. I don't recall this particular day that this picture was taken but I'm so happy I have it. It embodies so much that was my childhood. I looked up to my big brother, we were quirky, we knew how to have a fun (we knew how to fight). I just look at this picture and smile and remember a much more innocent time. When do we stop dressing up and consider putting a bear rug on our heads to be perfectly acceptable attire?
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