Shupa-Man

My child has developed a slight obsession over super heroes.  Or, as he says, Shupa-Man.

He has a Shupaman t-shirt and red socks, which he wears on his hands can calls them "Shupa-Man mittens."

You can't make this stuff up.

He flies (runs) around the house with the greatest of ease fighting invisible bad guys and Merry the cat.  He knows Superman can fly and therefore, when he is wearing his Superman shirt, he believes he can fly too.

I'm not a fan of that belief.  You can tell he's about to go "Shupa-Man" on us when he gets this determined look in his eye, walks to the edge of our stairwell and yells, "SHUPA-MAAAAAAN!"  And there's me, trying to grab at his hand and when he shakes it off, whizzing down the first flight of stairs trying to catch him. He then launches himself off the stairwell.

He does this over and over.  When that gets boring, he heads for the couch, where he jumps from couch, to ottoman, to loveseat and back.  He'll suddenly stop and shush me, saying there's bad guys waiting for us.  He'll take off, yell HIIIII-YAA from another room, and come back triumphant.

This child, he is one handful.  A hilarious, never boring, never ceasing to amaze me, handful.  He is a daily adventure and truly, he's a little super hero. My Shupa-Man.