Superhero?

Sometimes I feel like a superhero, you know like from the comic books. I have a cape and stand on roof tops with my hands on my hips surveying the lands looking to right wrongs, lend a hand to those that need one, to thwart evil doers, so on and so forth. The truth is the things I do, these “heroic acts” are not truly heroic but they make me feel good. It’s buying socks for one of my nieces or nephews when they need them, cleaning my grandma’s cornice board because she can’t reach anymore, buying groceries for my college student sister in-law. Not huge acts of heroism, not even true acts of humanism but the feeling I have when I do these things fills me up with, happiness isn’t the right word, but I think the right word is satisfaction. It’s not that these things are so impressive; I think I have a big head because I get asked to do things like this. I think I get asked to do these things because I rarely if ever say no, and because I truly love helping the ones that mean the most to me. I have to go though, got to get my cape to the dry cleaner so I am ready for the next request.

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