I’m a smart guy… I like to think I am anyway. I have a lot of skills, I have a lot of knowledge, I have three degrees, and I have a ton of Comic Books. I also have a 2 year old son, who is my absolute world. So when I was watching him earlier today, it surprised me to hear him ask for something I could not do – he asked for me to draw him a picture. Now in all honesty, this post isn’t what this blog has been about in the past, nor is it what I want it to be about in the future, but it’s my place for my musings and I can do whatever I want. So there. Besides, this blog was inspired by my Dad’s comic book collection, so why not talk about my own experiences with my own son. That being said, when he asked me to draw with him, I promptly freaked out. I had no idea what I’m doing.

Seriously – no idea what I’m doing…

Now I have drawn some before in the past, but it’s always been… well… bad. I’m not an artist, it’s a skill I do not have, and I hate that, but really, it’s just not in my wheelhouse, and I’m not ashamed to admit it, but when you study something like comic books as a historian, and looking at the cultural and societal norms that have dictated not only the story direction of these books, but also the art direction, you end up pretty jealous of those who can partake in the creation of those stories. So when my son asked me to draw The Flash for him, I promptly freaked out.

My son is a smart kid, and he thinks the world of me, I see it on his little face every time I look at him. He smiles at me when my wife pulls up and I come out to get him, and his laughter lights up my day like nothing else. I never want to let the little guy down. So how would he respond when he sees that I simply can’t draw to the standard of the things he sees in his books about Superman and Batman? When he realizes I’ll never be able to duplicate the amazing art he’s seen as he flips through my trades and even through the Marvel Previews magazine? What happens when he sees that my Flash is nowhere near on par with Brett Booth’s amazing artwork? Well… why not as Brett Booth himself for advice!?

Just an example of Brett Booth’s work. Now go follow him @Demonpuppy

I immediately took to twitter and asked him. Go follow him now if you have any interest in art or anthropology at all, Mr. Brett Booth, @Demonpuppy is a heck of an artist, especially with Flash, Booster Gold, and Dinosaurs, three of my favorite things. He’s one of my very favorite artists. I was freaking out with all these things running through my head when I took to twitter to ask for advice about making a drawing for my son, and Mr. Booth responded, art school for the baby if he likes it, out of luck for me – if I’m bad now, I probably can’t be helped! I get that, I’m on board with that, and he’s completely right.

However, in between the freaked out, panicked tweet sent out of a sense that I might somehow disappoint the cherubic child holding out a marker to me, and actually sitting down with some printer paper, a blue marker, and a pack of crayons (I’m no artist, and lack even the most basic of supplies) something magical happened.

It wasn’t this.

My son lay in the floor across from me, and we put pen to paper together. He had changed his mind by then, and wanted Superman instead. I immediately thought of Jerry Ordway, Dan Jurgens, and others who had drawn the Man of Steel, and knew I simply could not match their prowess, but I had to try – and the tiny Mister in front of me didn’t mind. He drew with a red crayon, me with a blue marker and I drew Superman to the very best of my ability. It was, in my son’s eyes, a masterpiece. It was with joy he held the the picture in his tiny hands and said “It’s Superman!” and sang a few notes of the old Superman movie theme (a common musical cue in our home) before he held out his own drawing – a red scribble over a black scribble. Then he said something that brought tears to my eyes: “It’s Plastic Man Daddy! I drew Plastic Man!”. Damned if it wasn’t the best Plastic Man I’d ever seen.

Plastic Man – Clark, 2016

By now, Brett Booth had responded, and I had sent him another tweet telling him nevermind, I’m having fun with my son. Spending time with him is the best, he loves me, and I love him. Despite my love and enjoyment of comic books, and the works of the great artists of the genre, spending time with my own son, making art together, and hearing him tell stories that rival those I read from Geoff Johns, Mike Carlin, Alan Moore, and amazing writers is far more important to me than actually soaking up the mythos being developed at DC and Marvel. Seriously, if you haven’t heard my kid’s epic Aquaman Goes to the Library you’re missing out.

This got me thinking – sometimes, we spend so much time engrossed in our own worlds, and those other worlds that we love, that we can miss something so amazing right in front of us. I love my kid so much, and I cried when he showed me his Plastic Man just like I am crying a little bit now as I write this. My kid is the best, and even if I don’t have the skills to make something worth publishing, he’ll love it. That’s the nature of children. In a world where media is consumed by Superheroes, we’re the real super heroes to our kids, and we need to remember that. This is something I think all parents could take something away from, and shows just how much it can mean to your kid just to do something fun with them – even if you’re absolutely terrible at it.