My son is one of those kids who likes to ask random questions. He makes inquiries such as, ‘Would you rather be eaten by sharks or fall into a volcano?’, or ‘If you could be any animal, real or mythical, which one would you be and why?’.
My personal favorite hypothetical query to ponder is, by far, ‘If you could have any superpower, which one would it be?’.
Alright, folks, pull up your crazy pants and tighten the chin strap on your tin foil helmet. You are about to embark on a tour through the inner workings of my mind. Of the many superpowers available to choose from, I’ve narrowed it down to the two I most desperately desire. I desire these superpowers so much, in fact, there is a small chance I would sell one or more of my children in order to acquire them.
I hunger for the ability to teleport myself anywhere in the world, with the person or object of my choosing. Full disclosure – I would use this power for ridiculously mundane and practical reasons. I live in upstate New York, in a truly rural area. There is one small Mom & Pop store, approximately a mile and a half from my house, which is open six days per week until five or six pm, depending on the day and the weather. Otherwise, getting to the nearest store requires driving down at least eight miles of twisty mountain road. Teleportation would come in handy. Forgot something at the grocery store? No problem, I’ll just pop right over and pick it up. Messy winter commute? No snow or ice can stop me. The pizza is cold by the time we get it home? Not anymore! Mom’s superpowers to the rescue. Everything – literally everything – is a twenty to thirty-minute drive from my humble abode. Teleportation would be a huge timesaver. When I have a break at work, I could blip home and throw in a load of laundry. My multitasking game would be at level expert. Pathetic, I know. The other superheroes would surely post “Kick Me” signs on my back.
But wait! I shall redeem myself with the unveiling of the second superpower I covet. Wait for it… I yearn to shoot lightning bolts from my hands. I spend much of my time out in the world. There are people out in the world and, frankly, sometimes I wish I could shoot some of those people with lightning bolts. Whoa there, calm down. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m not a sociopath. I don’t want to shoot them with catastrophic, exploding bolts of raw electricity – ok, maybe just a few of them. Mostly, though, I would like to give them just enough of jolt to knock them on their asses, depending on the severity of my annoyance*, of course. The power level could be adjusted, set low to light a candle or a campfire, or maxed out in the event of a zombie apocalypse. My enemies would cower in fear with the simple raising of my hand. I could work in the demolition industry, leveling buildings. I could finally take my rightful place as Queen of The World! The possibilities are endless. Please ignore the sound of my maniacal laugh and the sinister rubbing of my hands.
I’ve said enough. I’d hate for the word premeditation to start getting thrown around. I do hope you’ve enjoyed your stroll through the cavernous halls of my slightly demented mind, and if anyone knows how or where I might acquire these superpowers, drop me a line. I promise you will hold a lucrative position in my Queendom.
*Or my hunger level. See Hangry blog for more info.