Sunday was William Isaac’s fourth birthday. He grinned and hid his face when we sang “Happy Birthday” to him, blew out the candles on his massive cake, and worked himself into a sugar high before bouncing about the living room. He opened presents with the advice of his older brothers (“No, that one next; it’s bigger”), and under the harassment of Isaiah, who couldn’t understand why he was excluded from the paper tearing, which is his specialty.
I asked Isaac what he wanted for his birthday dinner. I expected a reply like “macaroni,” or “spaghetti,” but instead he said the dreaded words: “Burger King.” So after Awana we went to Burger King, where we met friends who are being transferred to France so the husband can teach them how to build a proper airplane.
I think Isaac may become a superhero. When we picked him up from Awana, he and his classmates were racing back and forth between their teachers. Isaac would start at the back of the pack, weave through all the other other runners, and finish a good five or six feet ahead without really trying. His older brothers already have to race all out to beat him. At Burger King he would run full-speed toward a thick padded support pole beneath the play structure and launch himself, so that he ended up clinging to it with his arms and legs, just like a young Spiderman might have done.
And let’s not forget his protective instinct. Last night he went downstairs to put on pajamas, and came back up with a helmet, two shields, and a sword, just in case there’s a battle.
I know, I know, he probably doesn’t actually have superpowers. But he makes my heart leap every time he comes racing to hug me when I return home, and my heart doesn’t leap all that easily. That’s a pretty nifty power, if you ask me.
Happy Four Birthday, William Isaac Woodlief. You’ll always be my superhero.
