Oh, that's Super Jesus!

I am definitely raising a boy. Not a boy in touch with is feminine side, or a boy who likes wearing mommy's shoes and not quite sure what that thing is in his diaper either. I am raising an honest to goodness, soon to be president of the HE-MAN MANLY MAN CLUB, LLC.

I should have expected it all along. It was one of the things I was most attracted to in his father, the fact he was so very comfortable in his masculinity. I have caught glimpses of my son's tendencies here and there, even though my mother loved putting her clip on pearl earrings on him and taking his picture (private note to husband...just breathe), but I never really realized how very "Boy" he was until today.

A little background: My husband is an avid comic book collector. He loves them. In fact he loves them so much the damn...um...dear things are all over my house. There are stacks on the bookshelves, stacks in his bathroom, stacks in MY bathroom, stacks beside his bedside lamp, stacks in the computer room, boxes upon boxes in our attic, his mother's attic, and every surface that doesn't move. One of Rick's fears when we found out we were having a baby, was if our son would be embarrassed his father collected comics. Well, three short years later, he no longer has that worry. Sam loves comics...I'm convinced it's genetic. He especially loves Superman, Spiderman, Flash and Batman, but not necessarily in that order and depending on the day. This love is even further encouraged by his grandmother, (who, having the disposable income which only comes from retirement and the freedom of not having to undress a toddler) who has bought every superhero costume available for her little precious to dress up in. Yeah, thanks mom. Have you ever tried to remove a Batman costume from a toddler? It's not pretty.

Add even more to the situation, we have all the DVD's associated with said superheros, both animated and feature film versions, plus the convenience of YOUTUBE, and "watch instantly" options of an unnamed online movie rental company. Hours of my day are spent finding superhero themed entertainment for my little guy. I'm developing carpal tunnel syndrome in my wrists from flipping through websites and channels on the tv.

Well, today, my son saw our home's crucifix in the foyer and wanted me to give it to him. "Great" I thought, "here is where I get to begin introducing my son to his religion." I was so excited, anticipating questions and telling stories of Jonah and the Whale and Daniel in the lions den, teaching the Ten Commandments and the Golden Rule. At last my son's spiritual education could begin. We mother's find any reason to mark a milestone. Shortly after handing him the crucifix, my son asked "Who dat?" (For the record, that's not toddler-speak, we are Southern, so odds are he will always say "Who dat?") "That's Jesus," I replied, my face contorted with maternal pride.
"Jebus?"
"That's right my precious angel, Jesus."
"Jebus." His eyes scanning over every millimeter of the brass crucifix, lighting up as if he had just been given a rare toy he had wanted for a while. As I sat there, watching him discover the father of Christianity, trying hard to contain my excitement, my son did a very boy thing. He began simulating flying as he does with his Superhero action figures.
"He flying Mama. He Super Jebus".

My chest immediately deflated as I realized he and I would not be having a theological discussion anywhere in the near future. At this moment in time, I realized The Lord was now competing with Superman and to a three year old, Jesus' superpowers are somewhat lacking. I mean, imagine you are three and you can choose between flying and walking on water, laser vision or turning water into wine? What are you going to chose? Sure, Jesus raised the dead, but Superman has a kicky red cape.

Even though my heart was temporarily broken, and I did entertain the thought I would go straight to Hell because I let my son pretend Jesus was a member of the Justice League, I soon realized maybe Jesus could be Super Jesus. Maybe Jesus would find it amusing a three year old used his crucified likeness as an action figure. Maybe Jesus would not be so amused if he were twenty three, but a three year old, why not? I decided to lighten up and let Sam continue to play with Super Jesus. I am however dreading the day we take him to church and his Sunday School teacher begins a lesson on the crucifixion. I just know my kid is going to pop up with "Oh, that's Super Jesus...my mom said so."