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Saturday, May 7, 2011

Blake, not Superman

Blake's other granny Nonna bought him a helmet and bika boots.

All that is now required is a jacket and gloves to complete the ensemble.

I gave Blake an old pair of woollen gloves. "Thank you, Guppee. You are so kind."

Blake is so impressed with his boots. When I see him he hikes up his jeans and points to each one in turn.

After Misty parks her car in the driveway, Blake waits for her to leave to prepare dinner.

He jumps into the driver's seat, presses the button to roll down the window, fastens the seatbelt, and turns up the volume on the radio.

"Broom. Broom. Broom", shouts Blake, turning the steering wheel.

Screeching cats, yelping dogs and baffled birds all flee in unison, and Sanna opens her door, saying: "That can only be Blake!"

Not long after, Misty hears: "Ma, Maah, Maaah! Daddeee!!"

Blake has locked himself in the car!

"Push the button, Blake", says Misty.

"I can't Mom, it's stuck. I am not Superman."

One day is one day when Blake may catapult into the traffic cop's garden next door, while he and his family are having dinner.

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