I really don’t like Superman. Nor do I like Batman, Spiderman or Thor. Or the Hulk. Or any of them, if I did love them my name would be BLACK GLASSES 🙂
In the days before having a baby, I genuinely had no strong feelings one way or another about superheroes, although I was a small fan of Wonder Woman.
They were there, on the periphery of my life. Now, they are central to it. I spend hours reluctantly involved in conversations about who would win if Spiderman and Ironman were in a fight. My otherwise mellow, sweet little girl (who is a bit of a Tomboy) jumps around corners going “POW POW” at random intervals throughout the day.
And, most worryingly of all, she is very addicted to Pokemon and Minecraft despite my efforts to encourage her interest in My Little Pony and Barbie.
Superheroes are violent and arrogant. They talk about vaporising bad guys. They are rebellious. They have way, way too much poor quality merchandise which, no matter how much I avoid toy aisles when out shopping, my daughters Superhero Radar finds out about. See my post here about our new venture
I realise that parents of kids who like Barbie or Dora or the Smurfs will have a similar experience, but at least Dora is nice and polite, and Barbie is unlikely to roar angrily at you, interrupting a once-peaceful shower. At least the Smurfs have some sort of conflict resolution other than a snappy one liner and zinging people with webs or ooze, or big muscles or whatever they do.
I try to tell my daughter that actually, the reason superheroes are so super is that they eat their vegetables and get lots of sleep. She remains unconvinced. So do I!
How long will this continue, I whinge to my partner. Then I realise he’s not listening because he is watching The Avengers and playing Battlefield.