Iron Tyke

The O-Dog and the Fletchmonster are on that "superhero" kick that lasts between ages... oh, two to six or seven. I was hoping to avoid it, but my sister and her kids weren't. A couple visits to Canada and a coustume or two later and it's Dark Knight this and Spider that.

It's not that big a deal, actually. At least the $25-30 costumes they get for Halloween get 360 days usage.

The Fletch has recently invented a new kind of hero.

His uncle came to visit recently to join us for dinner. As he enters the living room he quickly picks up the O-Dog to tickle him and roughhouse. The O-Dog, laughs hysterically, yelling "Fletch. Save me. SAVE ME." At which point the Fletch lunges for my brother's legs.

I leave my brother to his own devices as I go upstairs to get the boys' socks and a couple of clean shirts.

When I come downstairs five minutes later, they're all sitting on the couch calmly watching TV. My brother casually asks me, "Fletch likes to defend his brother, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," I reply. "They like to fight 'bad guys' and all that superhero crap."

"Because the little f*cker bit me."

Mandibula?
The Chomper?
Masticator?

Now that's my kind of hero.