The moonlight leaks through down turned blinds, casting silhouettes upon the room. Our hero lay at rest, safe in his bed. The door ajar, allows the intruder to creep slowly to the bedside. Pausing by the bed, observing our hero in repose, the shadow reaches into the recess of its darkness and withdrawls...a cell phone?
"You will never guess what your son has on his head."
Captain Underwear's secret identity has now been exposed, or at least it will be the first time he brings home a girlfriend. And why does he become "my" son when he does something like this?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
6 comments:
Great writing. I get the its "my son" also when my boys do something like that.
You get the "your son" comment because your wife knows that your the only other one in the house that would act like that.
It should be obvious that your sons are the robin to your batman. To the batpoles everyone.
At least he's not Admiral Grannie-Panties..... that would be severely less-awesome. And less capable of bringing justice to the land as evil is asking to be thwarted.
Ok, so maybe the apple does not fall far from the tree. But I at least default to the panty hose mask when I prowl the streets.
Jake...ewwwwwww!
I can recall you wearing such attire on your person where it should not have been as well, Pal.
Post a Comment