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ABSOLUTELY SUPER SARAH



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But Sarah was more pragmatic and decided since she was the superhero, she should use her own name. But SARAH is not terribly catchy. It needed punch. It needed pizazz. Obviously, SUPER SARAH. She tried it out. Flew dejectedly around the foyer. It didn’t work. It didn’t have the—there were any number of Sarahs that could be super. She wasn’t unique.

She lands in the living room, leaps onto the couch, cops a stance and cries out her new name: ABSOLUTELY SUPER SARAH.

Now this was it! This was a name with legs. There could be only one! She was absolute! So she drops down into a hunker before the TV and knocks out her logo, a wonderfully minimal ligature graphic of the initials of her superheoric moniker: A-bsolutely S-uper S-arah, in five inch Sharpie caps, flipped her cape around her shoulders and rocketed out the front door, down the sidewalk, past all our frail, elderly retired schoolteacher neighbors who couldn’t manage poor gerund usage, much less the acronym my absolutely super daughter was sporting on her rippling cape.

For a day, for an afternoon, my girl was a superhero who flew around our ‘hood with A.S.S. written on her back.

Find more at Bull Garlington’s blog Death by Children, www.deathbychildren.com.