Humor: Childhood memories

Short-lived Hero

Every kid has a favorite toy. Jimmy loves his convertible, Match-Box car with flame decal. Susie adores her Tammy Tinkle doll. And Andrew can’t get enough of his bright, yellow dump truck with working parts.

I was a He-Mann man. No other eight-year-old had more He-Mann toys than I, or at least I bragged to all of my peers. “Do you have the Man-At-Arms battle tank?” I’d ask my little circle of second-grader friends. We all collected the stuff. Transformers and He-Mann were the best toys. He-Mann was a God. Transformers were cool. He-Mann was invincible.

I spent many afternoons pretending to be He-Mann. The figurines were accurate and probably to-scale. His muscles were huge. I’d sit in the playroom with the figurines laid out on the brown Berber, each of their weapons lined up in order, ready for battle. Bad guys on the left. Good guys on the right. I’d set up the situation just like the show, and I’d get He-Mann and his crew ready to save the day. These figurines were great because they moved on their own. I didn’t have to move them around and tap them left foot to right foot on the rug to make them walk. They did it themselves, or so I forced myself to believe.

Skeletor was the leader of the bad guys. He wore a purple and black outfit, complete with a cape. He was a tough customer and often gave He-Mann a good fight. But like I said, He-Mann was invincible.Day after day, I’d create scenarios for my friends. Day after day, I knew I was the one who saved the day.

One night, I actually got the chance to become He-Mann. I had two costumes: He-Mann and Skeletor. The He-Mann costume had a plastic, painted sword, chest guard, and shield. The Skeletor costume consisted of a staff, a cape, and a glow-in-the-dark mask. The mask wasn’t anything expensive, but it sure was life-like. The cheekbones protruded from the face, creating deep eye sockets. The mouth contorted into a sinister grin. The eyes were dark, deep, and scary.

I don’t remember who gave me the costumes. It didn’t matter much. I was ready to be He-Mann and rid the universe of Skeletor once and for all. This was my time. I was ready to be a real hero. Unfortunately, I was playing by myself. I had quite the imagination, but playing two roles at the same time would’ve been very difficult.

Walking out of the playroom, I scoured the house for a companion. I had two sisters, one younger and one older. I didn’t know where they were, but they weren’t around. Stepping into the kitchen, I spotted