The Fall of Wonder Woman

It was the summer of 1979 in Pineville, Louisiana, or at least I think it was summer. The air was heavy and stale. Though I am much older now, I remember the day like it was just yesterday.

I had spent many moons absolutely infatuated with Batman. The Batman brush mom purchased for me from Avon was a true testament of my love. If only I could have been Cat Woman; to have been given the chance to know this man I admired. Would he be in awe of my body in the sleek black suit? Would he want me the same way I wanted him?

As the days passed, I eventually had to accept that my role in this universe was never going to change. I was a little girl, living in a little town, on a little street, in a little house…. I think you get my point. My super powers only existed within my very large imagination, and even then, they would disappear as soon as the lights went out in the bedroom. At that time, I relied on my cat Marshmallow in hopes that she actually possessed the powers needed to protect me from the monsters that would no doubt come out of the closet between the hours of 9:00pm and 7:00am. Since I am still here, I can safely assume that she did a good job!

Then one day it happened! It was like a miracle. A dream come true. I was a super hero.

Perhaps now I would catch the eye of Batman. I'd break through the clouds in my invisible plane, and use my lasso to capture the bad guys. I was smart, beautiful and strong. I stood up on a chair in my families kitchen in order to profess my newfound life, "I am Wonder Woman!" And with that statement, I took a leap to show off my newly acquired skills.

(((CRASH)))**(((BAM)))**(((SPLAT)))

After unhooking my clothing from the back of the chair and picking myself up off of the floor, with tears running down my face, I meekly cried, "I ripped my Underroos."

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