Dudes. I was the towel master.
A huge safety pin, my special towel, and a vivid imagination are the the most cherished things I had as a child.
My special towel was this near-lime green colored thing that was unremarkable except that at one end it had an extra flap of material about an inch-and-a-half long. This end was the top of the cape. It was like a folded down collar.
Slap that thing on and I was Superman. Or Dracula. Or my own variation. Running up hills, jumping off barrier walls, running around "flying," and doing whatever else my cape allowed me to do was how I spent a lot of my youth.
And I have scars to prove that I was a typical, unthinking boy. The handle of a screen door carved its initials in my face once when I tried to run through the door, thinking I was Superman. I believe I was four. Another time, I ran and jumped smack into a wall, knocking myself senseless. I was hoping to stick. Like Spiderman. Somehow, I avoided ever getting the cape caught and choking myself. The safety pin would have given way, probably, but I'm still surprised it never happened.
I had a buttload of kids in my house last night. My wife's best pal from this area is moving today. Her three kids and my three kids have been great friends. It's a pretty sad day. Last night, the kids were over so they could play one last time and the adults could be free to do some packing, etc. Another friend, dropped off her three kids for a bit. It was crazy.
I tried to get some things done before I had to go to class, and all the noise and distractions were frustrating. But as I watched them play and jump and dance to music, I wish I had my cape.
These days all I have are towels.