My kids apparently think I have superpowers. They're right, of course. Big guy thinks my superpower is sandwich making. He thinks I make the best sandwiches in the history of everything mayonnaisey, pickley, and mustardy. He's convinced that I went to sandwich making superpower school at Thundercloud Subs (where I worked all through college), and that's where I earned my cape. He's probably right. Little guy thinks my superpower is chocolate chip cookie making. I've been making them since I was a wee one, following the directions on the yellow Nestle's bag, year after year after year. Sometime in the past five years or so I started messing with the recipe and created my own version that apparently tops all others. I don't think little guy has any theories about where I got my superpowers, I don't even think he cares. He just wants those cookies.
What do my superpowers get me? I'll tell you what they get me. They get me TONS of hugs and "I love you"s before, during, and after I use them. Awesome!
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