It made him an American History Book hero.
This morning is cold again, although it's expected to warm up dramatically.
I'm wearing sweats and a sweater, socks and ankle boots. The ankle boots zip on the inseam.
I was raised on images of super heros donning their fighting costumes, hiding their secret identities. As I zipped up my ankle boots, I envisioned a super hero zipping up leather gloves.
I have a button that says "mild mannered housewife". But Flar says I've never been "mild mannered" and housewife isn't my secret identity, it's my super hero job.
Flar is in Brazil and I am here alone to battle the evil Umbridge and the deluded Fudge (who in real life is female, but no less living in a fantasy world). I think there's a D&D term for evil that isn't "on purpose" and that was Umbridge's variety, but it doesn't forgive any of her acts.
I didn't sign up to be a single mom, and I suck at it.
My secret identity is timid and afraid and needs comfort.
I need a hero.
