Daddy is a Superhero and Mommy goes to the grocery store

I don't own a cape or a spandex uniform. Masks tickle my face. No invisible jets or secret rooms full of gadgets in my house either. And no, I can't stop a speeding bullet, but in all fairness, I haven't tried.

So, armed with that knowledge, I don't know why I was shocked by my daughter's dream last night. At 2 am, she woke up screaming as in "get-in-my-room-right-now-before-this-monster-eats-me" kinda of screaming. So, I did what most sleeping mommies do (or want to do), I sent my husband. 

A few minutes later I hear rapidly approaching tiptoes and barely miss being smacked in the face with Lambie.

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"Are you okay, honey?"

"I'm scared. I had a bad dream."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You are safe now baby. What was it about?"

"Me and Ellery were left at home by ourselves and a bad person was trying to get us. Then Daddy came and he was a Superhero and he saved us."

"Oh, honey, that does sound scary. Where was mommy?"

"You were at the grocery store."

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Um. What? I was at the grocery store?!

My husband gets to be the superhero and I get to go to the grocery store? Is this because I quit work and stay at home with our girls while Daddy disappears most days to that mysterious place called work? Did I hang up my future superhero cape when I hung up my 401k?

Maybe. Maybe not. 

I like to think that all moms--working outside the home and not--are superheros. For how else can our hearts handle the joy and heartache that comes with being a mom. And, yes, some days it takes superhero strength to make it through the day. 

So for now, I'm okay with my husband being the superhero in our daughter's dreams. I'll just settle for a trip to the grocery store. I only hope I brought home something good for dinner.