Your friendly neighborhood vigilante shows off his moves. And be prepared for many more pictures of Collin in superhero duds as the fall progresses. We've already purchased a three-costume set for Halloween, featuring a Batman costume that will hopefully fit (unlike the "Batman-does-Prufrock" effect we have here), a Robin costume, and a Flash costume.
Here's the deal. We resist branding in our house. We do not have Dora sheets, Blue's Clues placemats, or Sponge Bob anything. We have NO Disney princess-sorority-of-mindless-insipid-sweetness merchandise and never, never shall.
But then Collin asked about Batman.
As some of you know and many of you no doubt do not, I love Batman. And I'm not referring to the joke-y live-action series from the 60's. I mean the Frank Miller, Tim Burton, now Christian Bale-embodied, tortured, brooding, hero on a doomed mission to save a rotten city from itself. (See? I could write text for the back of the next graphic novel. Just you wait.) So when Collin inquired about Batman, I obliged with stories, pictures, t-shirts, more pictures, highly-inappropriate viewing of a few Batman cartoons (too scary and confusing, though I loved them), more stories, action figures, a hat, flip-flops, bath toys, and the inevitable costume.
It's a branded paradise in our house now. Sigh. The only consolation I have is moments like this wonderful picture, and the even better ones when Collin attempts to pass on superhero lore to others. Batman, as he will tell you, lives in Gottam (sic). Superman (whom he also loves now) comes from Crouton.
Who knew?
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