Mary Jane

Leaning over my baby girl’s protective little shoulder,

I watch as her little fist skitters haphazardly across the page,

Blue and red whorls unfurling in its wake.

Quietly, she confides

“This is me and Joey playing Spider-Man and Mary Jane.”

Punctuated by a little giggle and redoubled scribbling.

I smiled a bit worriedly, my thoughts filled with hardships

Of risking it all for love, of the death of innocence,

Of comic book perils seeming suddenly all too real.

The realization that my little girl will face fear, loss, and death

One day when I fear she will no longer need me

It hits so hard I half-expect to see technicolor stars.

But when I tell her that it isn’t easy being Mary Jane,

Her little face scrunches up in distaste.

“I’m Spider-Man.”

She informs me scornfully.