I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
September 8, 2009
>“Look, Punky, you got a letter!” I said, holding out a brightly decorated envelope.
“A letter?!” Punky shouted. “Who’s it from?”
It’s from your sister at college,” I said. “Do you want me to read it to you?”
Punky nodded and we sat down together at the kitchen table.
“Dear Punky,” I read. “How are you? Are you having fun in kindergarten? Have you made new friends? Do your friends have any super powers like you? I miss you! I love you! N.”
“Let’s write her back,” Punky said, grinning. “I’ll tell you what to say and you write it.”
“Okay,” I agreed. We got out another piece of paper and a pencil. “What do you want to say?”
“Say, ‘I’m good.’” Punky instructed. “Say, ‘None of my friends have any super powers like me.’”
I paused. “What is your super power, Punky?” I asked. She frowned.
“It’s not any good,” she mumbled, dropping her chin in her hands. “I’m just Popsicle Girl.”
“Popsicle Girl?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “All I can do is hold popsicles straight on a stick. And that power is no good to me.”
“How did you figure that out?” I asked, trying very hard not to smile.
“I just did,” she said, shrugging. “I just know I’m Popsicle Girl.” She bit her lip and looked away. I decided not to press the matter. Clearly, the discovery that she was Popsicle Girl, as opposed to Flying Girl or Time Travel Girl, had been traumatic.
I am only Popsicle Girl, I wrote in the letter. My power is no good to me. I knew my stepdaughter, well acquainted with Punky’s… ahem… “unique approach” to life, would get a kick out of that.
However, I do think this little story brings hope to the rest of us. I mean, we all discovered right around Punky’s age that we weren’t actually superheroes.
But maybe we were wrong.
Maybe we all have super powers. They might not be as glamorous as catching thieves just like flies or leaping tall buildings in a single bound, but we’re really, really good at them, just the same.
If Punky is Popsicle Girl, then I guess you could all call me The Stroganess. I’d put up my Beef Stroganoff against anyone’s. ANYONE’S. Even Wonder Woman’s.
So, Superheroes, identify yourselves and tell me about your super power. Then maybe we can start a group or something…. Popsicle Girl and the League of Superheroes with Powers that are No Good to Us.
I kind of like the sound of it.
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