A Collection of Shorts

Batman Brunch

I opened the door to Mom's bedroom and there she was, on the windowsill, her cape swinging in the wind. With a 'whoosh' she took off.

Screaming, I ran to the window thinking I had just seen my mother plunge to her death. But, no, there she stood on the roof with her hands on her hips, wearing a pair of grey tights, dad's black briefs and a bed sheet tied around her neck doing a perfect superhero pose. Her bespectacled eyes searching the horizon. Sighing in relief that she was still in one piece, I leaned against the sill.

"Mom! What the hell are you doing? Get back in here before you kill yourself," I hissed. "And take off that bed sheet before the neighbors see you!"

Slowly, she turned to me. "I'm not your mom," she said in a hoarse, dark voice. "I'm Batman."

Of course she was, the old Batman shirt she was wearing with dad's tool belt wrapped around her waist obviously explained it all.

I smacked my head with an aggressive faceplam. This was a nightmare. What was supposed to be a boring late Mother's Day brunch had turned into an epic disaster of superhero proportions. Even DC comics wouldn't know what to do with this situation.

"Mom, please come back inside," I pleaded.

"I can't. Gotham needs us! Put on your cape Robin, we have work to do."

"I am not wearing Nana's duvet."

"Don't be silly, you can't save the world in Nana's quilt," she said with an eye roll. "I laid out another cape for you. It's on the settee."

I'm the silly one? Shaking my head, I pulled it back inside and turned to look. Sure enough, there was another sheet...or cape draped over the chair.

"I'm not running around wearing a My Little Pony sheet." Seriously, the woman needed to let go of a few things around here. I was 27 for Christ's sakes, my fascination with cartoon horses ended when I was eight.

"We won't be running, Robin. We have the Batmobile."

"You drive a Dodge Caravan," I stated flatly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Not tonight. Tonight...it's the Batmobile," she said, puffing out her chest. The Batman emblem stretched tautly over her sizable breasts. An image I was never going to be able to get rid of.

"Mom..." The phone started to ring, interrupting my attempt to once again talk her off the roof. "I'm going to answer the phone," I told her, darting my head back out. "Don't...go anywhere," I warned, shaking my finger at her.

"If it's Commissioner Gordon, tell him I'm on it," she growled out in the worst Batman impression...ever.

"I'll tell him you're on something," I muttered, heading towards the phone. I knew I should have stayed in my nice, cozy, sane apartment instead of being guilted into another stupid brunch. Picking up the phone, I pressed the answer button. "Hello?" I snapped.

"Hey, Cupcake! How's it going?" My dad's voice came through the other end and I sagged on mom's bed in relief.

"Dad! Oh, am I glad to hear it's you!" I clutched the phone like a life line.

"I'm happy to hear you to, honey."

"Mom is out on the roof wearing a crazy outfit and claiming to be Batman!" I whispered in a frenzy, my voice just this side of hysterical.

"It's not Monday," he said confused.

"Monday? What does that have to do with anything I've told you?" I pulled away from the phone and frowned at it. Did he not hear me? The sound of his chuckling had me bringing the phone back to my ear.