The Superhero's Mother

With my hand in his hair I dunked him under the water.

"You always come back like a dog rolling around in the mud. What do you get up to?"

"What do you think I do, Mum? Say 'Please Mr Evil Supervillan, would you kindly come stop lasering people and come down for a chat over a cuppa tea?'"

He always comes back like this, thinking he knows better than his Ma'. But who cooks his tea and scrubs him down after his scraps? Oh, I do wish he'd take more care of himself. Just looking at him now I can see burnt patches of hair, bruises all down his torso and there seems to be a little bit of blood on his 'Super shoes.' He picked them up after wrapping himself in a towel.

"Oh shoot, I'm going to need a new pair."

"No you're not! I payed good money for those!"

"Mum, I'm meant to be role model, a hero."

"Just because you are a superhero doesn't mean you can afford anything you want."

In fact, we can hardly afford anything. Whilst Tommy goes out and tells those bad boys off I make money through one of the only skills I have, ironing. I do bits and bobs for people here and there but it's not enough to live on. I do wish he'd get a proper job. I tentatively ask him the same question that I ask him everyday.

"Do you really need to be the hero? Isn't there someone else who can do the job?"

"No mum."

"What about that lovely friend of yours? You know, the one who flies?"

"Dead."

"Oh what a shame. What about that girl with the fancy knife?"

"Dead."

"Mr....oh, what's his name. Sounds like a type of cheese"

"Mr. Feda  and he is a sidekick, Mum."

I can never seem to convince him.

"I know. The one who is always on television. Iron Man!"

"He's not real!"

I decide to keep quiet, whatever I say he won't agree with. I get back to my ironing. For once, I have a large pile of clothes from the neighbours so I get back to the only thing I am good at. I've always been quick at ironing but nothing could prepare me for what my son said next.

"You're 'Iron Woman', Mum!"

I had no idea what he was going on about.

"The speed at which you ironed that shirt! You're a superhero!"

I laugh. "If only, Tommy. I could've done something useful with my life by now!"

"I'm serious, Mum. How have you never realised? How have I never realised?"

I'm shocked. I'm quick, it's true but not superhero quick....am I? Over the next few hours Tommy gets me to do what he calls 'superhero chores.' This is basically cleaning things as fast as possible. My house did look sparkling by the end of it. I was very proud of my work.

"We need to get you a costume. You will be 'Iron Woman' and we can save the world together!"

But I didn't want to be a saviour. I wanted to stay at home, do my ironing, go to community gatherings and clubs, not where evil is. I never want to be where evil is.

"No son. That's your job. I'm sorry but I'm happy here."

"The people need people like you, Mum. Heroes to lead the world and keep it from falling in to despair and evil. It's your true destiny."

I led him to the sofa and held him in my arms like he was a little boy again, even if he was 22.

"Oh my darling. That's your destiny not mine. I know where I belong. I belong in this house, waiting for my little hero to come home, cheering him on TV, crying when he wins because I'm so proud. I belong to the community, helping out at the local fayre, making jam for the local competition, doing bits and bobs for our neighbours. That's my place because that is where I want to be."

He understood from then on. My boy became the best superhero in all of history, saving the world countless times and I was the proudest Ma' there ever was.