The Superpowers Of ChildrenHeather Spohr
My husband, Mike, and I sometimes refer to Annie by the super hero-esque name of “The Amazing Annabel.” I should mention, for full disclosure, that we’ve also made her a super hero costume and filmed her in a couple of her very own super hero home movies. Lately, though, I’ve started to think Annie might actually be a super hero. Behold, the super powers of The Amazing Annabel!
It doesn’t matter where Annie is or what she’s doing, if I open a bag of food in the kitchen she will be at my side in a matter of seconds. I’ve tried opening the bags as quietly as possible, I’ve tried waiting until her favorite TV show comes on, I’ve even tried masking what I’m doing by singing at the top of my lungs, but nothing fools Annie and her mutant ears.
Last week Annie and I dropped into an auto parts store to pick something up when all of a sudden she yelled, “Elmo!” I looked around, confused, but saw nothing but car parts. Later, a clerk lead us to the very back of the store where our item was, and there, hundreds of feet from the entrance, was a small Elmo sticker on the wall.
“See?” Annie said. “Elmo.”
How the what now?
Ability To Make Things Disappear
Give Annie anything, and a few minute later she will come up to you and ask where it is.
“Mama? Where are my crayons?”
“The crayons I gave you literally two minutes ago?”
“I can’t find them.”
The crazy thing is, no matter how hard I look for the damn crayons (under cushions, behind dressers, etc.), I’m never able to find them. It’s like they’ve evaporated into thin air. I used to think Annie was just misplacing these things, but it happens so often that it makes me think there’s something superhuman going on here.
Annie’s biggest trick? Making this stuff reappear, months later, in someplace totally bizarre like the Tupperware drawer.
No matter where I take Annie, people just give her things she’d want. Checkers at the supermarket give her stickers, waiters at restaurants give her crayons, and the nurse at the doctor’s office even gave her a toy car! No one walks up to me and just hands me a latte. I wish they would. I need one. There’s only one explanation: she’s manipulating them with mind control.
I told Mike my theory, but he just scoffed. “If she can control minds how come she can’t make us give her what she wants?” That’s when we looked into the playroom and saw the length of the floor was covered with toys, toys, and more toys.
“Whoa,” Mike said. “Mind control.”
Don’t forget, Annie: with great power comes great responsibility!