In the ordinary course of events, I read a story to the Little Man before bed. But last night was warm and muggy. The Little Man had his bath and then I chased him around the house to burn off some energy–his, not mine, although I’m not quite sure it worked out that way. By his bedtime, I was beat, and he was looking pretty tired, and I was in no mood to read.
The night before I started to watch the Superman Returns movie on my iPad. I know that there are mixed opinions about the movie, but I really enjoyed it when it first came out, and I hadn’t watched it in a few years so I thought I’d give it whirl.
Well, last night, as the Little Man was calming down, I said to him, “Do you want to watch a show with Daddy?”
“Okay,” he said. (He’s gotten rather versatile with his “okays.”)
So I put on the movie, where I’d left off, just as Superman is about to rescue Lois and the rest of the people on the airplane that carried the space shuttle. When the Little Man first saw Superman fly onto the screen, his eyes widened and he gasped. I said, “That’s Superman!”
Before long, when the action scene was over, the Little Man was saying “More Superman fly! More Superman fly!”
So I would skip the non-action scens and fast forward to the scene in which Superman was flying. The Little Man loved it. When I put him down to bed, he seemed only capable (through his barely open eyes) to mutter the words “Superman” and “fly” over and over. I don’t remember when I first learned about Superman, but I know I was pretty young. I’ve always wondered what it must have been like, discovering this hero, not yet knowing he’s a fictional character, feeling that sense of wonder that something like Superman could really be possible.
I saw it tonight in the Little Man’s eyes. And it really was amazing to witness.
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