The Family Storm

On a lighter note, way way back, Boy Wonder announced that he was a superhero named Captain Thunderstorm. Apparently, this was not just a passing fancy on his part. He has since expanded the name game, and the fantasy life, to encompass all the members of our immediate family, my parents, my friend and her daughter, and the occasional school friend.

Through many discussions with Boy Wonder, the truth has been revealed to me. We are the Family Thunderstorm, it would appear, and we are powerful. Boy Wonder, of course, is our leader, Captain Thunderstorm. He is supported in superhero-ness by Captain Daddymanstorm, Captain Womanstorm, and Captain Babystorm; surely you can figure out who is who. (Although I think "Captain Laundrystorm" would work just as well for me after this weekend; here at the House of Strep we are not doing the usual summer playing-outside thing, so today presented ample opportunity for clean clothes. My laundry is done, man.) Also included are Captain Grandmastorm and Captain Grandpastorm (again, self-explanatory). We are divided into various teams. The two main teams are the boy team and the girl team, and the boy team is divided into Team Crystal and Team Rocket. The girl team is divided into Team Flower and Team Butterfly. But we all work in the same office.

We all have assigned uniform colors. (He drew pictures of each of us in uniform one day. Yes, I saved them.) We all have assigned numbers, though these change daily. Some of us serve as special helpers to Captain Thunderstorm, and if you tell him forcefully to pick up his toys, you will lose your status as a special helper. One day, when my parents were visiting, Boy Wonder announced grandly, "The boy team has 57 special powers!" After a short pause, my dad said, "OK. Name them." (I think the Captain got up to seven, all involving lightning or flying, before turning his attention to something else.) Oh, and we have a submarine. A yellow one.

This certainly makes the afternoon commute more interesting, and Boy Wonder has spent many a happy hour working out the logistics of, and drawing the adventures of, our superhero team. I myself have three different interpretations of our submarine. And there's nothing quite like zoning out while washing the dishes and then hearing a little, fake-deep voice say, "Captain Womanstorm. You must get your papers and work in your office now."

I'll get right on that. Thanks, Captain!