I sat in the chair at the kitchen table where my mother was busy making lunch.

My sweet, frightening, worried mother. She hummed quietly as she worked.

It was warm and

I still insisted on wearing my hoodie, sweat was dripping down my back. The lights were humming and I thought this wasn’t a good idea after all.

I was about to open my mouth and tell her “never mind” but just then she reached across the table and plopped a warm plate of cookies she had made earlier.

Not from scratch but the ones in a little can you just unravel, I couldn’t remember their name but they were so familiar and strangely reassuring that I was finally able to gather my courage and tell her the truth.

“Mom?”

She didn’t look up from her work

“Yes sugar?”

I clasped my shaking hands together, I was a superhero, capable of throwing busses over my head like they were nothing. Could stop a robbery before tea time and could leap over tall buildings in a single bound, why was I so nervous ?

That sixth sense of hers I swear sensed whenever I was doing something stupid caught on and she turned around.

“What is it ?”

“I have something to tell you”

Her shoulder dropped and for a second I regretting saying a thing, but she deserved to know.

“Are you in trouble?” She asked worriedly, wringing her hands,

“No I-“

“Because if you are, don’t hesitate to tell me, I’ll help you, you can always come to-“

“No mom I’m not in trouble.”

She stood there, waiting, a monument of patience as I gathered my courage,

“I… am the city’s hero, the one in the papers.”

She looked away, outside the window,

And I waited anxiously for her response.

“Just like your uncle”

“Wait… what?”