We deliberated over our superhero day costumes as the rest of the family raised Hell on the other side of our bedroom door. Mother was yelling at Luther and Iris was fighting with Bertrand over the hot water heater. Others were running up and down the landing, the patter of Dashiell’s little feet followed closely by the heavy clumping of Holden, both giggling wildly.
“So, Hobbes. Should I be the Flash? Maybe I could trade my costume for Bertrand’s Green Lantern one. Who is Lyre being, anyway?”
“Who do you think? Not something skanky,” he laughed.
“Batman?” I asked. Hobbes nodded. “God. I don’t understand why more people don’t laugh at her.”
“They’re afraid of her, maybe. I don’t know.” He shrugged. I thought about that for a few moments. She wasn’t really a scary person. In fact, if anyone in our family deserved to be feared, it was Iris. I looked down at my red bodysuit.
“We’re going to look ridiculous, Hobbes. A carful of superheroes.”
“Yeah, I know. We’re going to look gay in our spandex.”
“I’m okay with it. At least once we’re at school, there will be a lot more of us. I’m kind of looking forward to it, actually.
“Whatever. Set the alarm for ten minutes earlier. I’ll need time to get into my tights.”