What Happens When the Cape Comes Off?

There are days when I am Super-Mom. I wear a red cape and knee-high boots. I fly around La Mesa kissing boo-boos, shopping for food, cooking gourmet dinners, cleaning dust specks off my ceiling fan, chasing my son and his evil twin, coloring super-hero pictures. All with my hair neatly in place.

But, as Mr. Incredible says, every super hero has an alter ego. Even the red cape and boots need to be washed periodically. So what happens when they come off?

Well. Sometimes balls get dropped. And let me tell ya, I let a real big one go bouncing this week.

See, there's this Star Trek exhibit at the San Diego Museum of Air and Space. I'll admit I'm a little more geeky about ST than Jason is, but we both figured hey! it'd be fun to go, right? I mean, how many chances do you get to actually sit in Captain Picard's chair???

Oh, be still my heart!

We've been planning to go for months now. And we decided to get Jason's best friend Kevin, in on the whole deal since he's a Trekkie, too.

So our plans are made, the date is set. We are all excited.

Except that, in the midst of the anticipation of seeing a real transporter chamber and the deck of the original Enterprise, I forgot one little detail. A three-foot, blonde-headed detail.

I completely forgot that I would need childcare for Caleb while the three of us are out gallavanting around the galaxy. Bounce goes the dropped ball . . .

Not very Super-Mom-ish.

I'm so used to having Caleb along wherever we go; the thought didn't dawn on me until Monday: Hey maybe it would be a good idea if Caleb stays with someone rather than running around highly expensive T.V. props. Then I went into panic mode. Call Ashleigh. Call Mom. Call Amy.

No one can watch him. The ball keeps bouncing . . .

Maybe I should have called the National Guard instead. Hmmmm, anyone have that number?

There is a moral to this story. Ready? Here it is: Never, ever, ever take that cape off. Wear it till it rots. That's the only way to ensure childcare in times of need. Even Super-Moms have trouble catching dropped balls.

But lest I leave you in the Depths of Despair, I will tell you what I told Amy: we can probably take Caleb with us if no other option presents itself. Three adults should be able to handle one small child, right? Right?? (feel free to reassure me here, frineds).

*Sigh*

Knowing my son, he'll be comandeering a space shuttle and commanding his own away mission if we're not careful. Either that, or he'll break said transporter chamber and Scotty won't be able to beam anyone up.

Let's just hope he'll be satisfied sitting in the Captain's chair and wearing his own com badge. =)