Between visitors and happy hours and friends moving out of state, I've been social in some capacity every night this week since Thursday before last. So tonight I'm hiding. I'm drinking beer, writing e-mails, waiting for Eric to finish making a pot pie, and watching Superman on TCM.
Superman was my favorite when I was four. I watched the movie and the cartoons and had the Mego Superman doll and a life-sized cardboard Superman on my bedroom door. My mom could get me to do anything by telling me Superman would do it.
It took me a while to figure out that Superman probably didn't have to go to bed when it was still light out or play quietly in his room while his parents had the neighbors over for drinks, and it took me a lot longer to realize how shamelessly I'd been manipulated. Same with my Dad's "oh-I'm-sorry-honey-but-I'm-pretty-sure-all-your-Snickers-bars-look-like-they've-been-tampered-with-so-I'd-better-test-them-for-you" routine the Halloween after the Tylenol cynaide poisonings. Jerks.