Amazing Kids! Magazine

My Super Suit

By Mia Sartor, Age 17, Canada


Ever since I was a little kid, I wanted to be a super hero. I guess the phase started when my mom took me to see Spiderman when it first came out in theatres. We waited in line for three hours just to get tickets to the exclusive screening. Ever since my dad left, she always tried extra hard to play both parenting roles, ensuring that I was a well rounded, normal kid just like everyone else who was raised in a two parent household–even though I was one parent short of a set. I remember how my Spiderman obsession was most likely the cause of her premature grey hairs. I almost feel bad for asking her to buy me all the Spiderman lunch boxes, pencil cases and the toiletry kit. Almost. I remember her coming home one day with a Spiderman costume; my ‘super suit’ I called it. My mom told me that she bought it so I could be a super hero too, just like Spiderman. That was easily the best day of my life. I wore it for days on end, never taking it off. I wore it to school, to bed and even to church. It got to the point where it hadn’t been washed in over a week. My poor sweet mother was stuck at a crossroad and had to choose between being a cool parent or an enforcer of the rules. Which is why she came to the decision of removing the super suit off my kicking and screaming body, even though she insisted that I would get it back the second it came out of the dryer. But in those 2 long hours I waited for my super suit to wash, I remember feeling so helpless and just completely unsuper. I was desperate. I located the nearest pack of markers and got to work. I managed to cover every inch of my skin in red and blue, the signature colours of my idol. I remember my mom coming back into the room with my real super suit perfectly folded in her hands and upon seeing my little art project she was so astonished she dropped everything , running to fetch the camera. Until this day, I still have the picture proudly taped to center of my fridge. She swore it was the cutest thing she’s ever seen. But I had to remind her that Spiderman wasn’t cute, he was a hero.

I eventually grew out of the super hero phase and started wearing regular clothes again. But I could never shake the feeling that I was, once again, unsuper. The little boy inside of me was still replaying scenes of Spiderman shooting webs out of his hands and the adoring faces of the victims he saved. Those memories encouraged me to pursue a career where I too could see those appreciative faces, but directed towards me instead. I’ve been a firefighter for 5 years now and I have never felt more super in my entire life. I’ve always wanted to be a super hero, but I guess this’ll do.