Every hero needs a villian or two

Today I met my second nemeses. The day started out nice enough. I got a great nights sleep last night and I awoke all full of the promises of a great day. Mom and I hung out and then Dad and I hung out and things were going well. After my lunch (which is after my brunch, which is after my breakfast, which is after my late-night snack) my dad put me in the car seat. I love to drive around and go places, this is going to be fun.

We drove for ten minutes or so and arrived in an unfamiliar parking lot by a large brick building. My reading level is pretty low (I am only six weeks old) so I couldn't quite make out the sign but it looked like some place where people practice being a family (it said Family Practice on the door and that makes sense to me). We went inside and there were lots of toys in this nice room with chairs and a lady at a desk. Dad and I played while mommy talked to the lady.

Then we went into this small room, it was pretty neat. Then all of a sudden this little short lady came in and told me she was my doctor. She then forcibly stripped me down, poked me, prodded me, put cold things on me, measured me and weighed me like I was a captured animal. All twenty-one and a half inches and ten pounds four ounces of me felt violated. So I did what I do best, I used my super powered scream to try to scare her off. She wasn't even fazed. She is a strong one, she is.

Next time she mentioned something about doing shots (I thought I was too young to drink but that sounds cool). Maybe next time will go better. Maybe.

Things I Like

After a long day of fighting injustice, a guy (invertebrate crime-fighter) just wants to relax and unwind. Sounds simple, right? Maybe for ordinary mortals. But for those that have chosen to guard the path of justice, relaxation is an elusive mistress. Still there are some things that help distract me, if only for a moment, from the burden of my responsibilities.

1: The Vacuum Cleaner

They say "music can soothe the savage beast." Well, I don't know about that but it sure helps me relax. As I have previously mentioned, my favorite band is the Vacuum Cleaner. I am often lulled to sleep by its hypnotic hum. The Cleaner is an under-appreciated musical talent. My brother, Oreo, would rather jump out the window than have to listen to it for more than a second. He has even on occasion been known to run screaming from the room the minute I put The Cleaner on (what a drama queen). And while they would never admit it to my face, my parents aren't huge fans either. They are constantly trying to limit the amount of time I get to listen to The Cleaner. I think they're worried about its explicit content. But I'm five weeks old, an active member of a secret, underground, crime-fighting organization, and a registered Democrat, I should be allowed to chose my own music without parental interference!

2: Stinkboy

My best friend is Stinkboy. He lives in the picture above my changing table. I can't say enough about him. I could just sit and talk to him for minutes. . . I mean it--whole minutes! He's such a good conversationalist that I sometimes totally ignore my parents' attempts to get my attention. This makes them so jealous that they even resort to changing my diaper in hopes I'll spent more of my time focused on them. Parents can be so clingy! Don't they realize that there are just some things a boy (invertebrate crime-fighter) can only discuss with his friends?

3. The Farm Mobile

As a active member of the Menagerie, the secret, underground, crime-fighting organization founded by my dad (The Agriculturist), is it any wonder that I have a thing for farm animals? And nothing relaxes me more than to see farm animals hanging from strings move in circles above my crib. Even on my worst days, where the weight of the injustice in the world is just too much for me to bare and nothing anybody does or says can comfort me, one look at the mobile and all my troubles seem to fade away. Unlike the Vacuum Cleaner my parents totally support my interest in the mobile. I guess they think it is more educational. Obviously thinking that my performance could help inspire relaxation in others, my parents even videotaped me rocking out to the mobile's melodies. I played it cool though and didn't let on that I noticed. You want these things to look natural.

So there it is. . . my list of the three most relaxing things in the world. For even the most heroic of invertebrate crime-fighters need some time to themselves.

Worm vs. The Early Bird

The saying goes "the early bird gets the worm". Remember that it is just a saying, it isn't always true. Sometimes the early bird gets eaten by the carnivorous nocturnal animal looking for a last minute snack before going to bed in the dawn's early light. It is natural for worms and early birds to be mortal enemies. Let me tell you how this particular rivalry came about.

The Worm (Malcolm's alter-ego) is a crime fighter who defends Attleboro with a sharp eye on justice and moral correctness. All crime is crime. There is no gray area. If you litter, worm will get you. If you turn right on a "no turn on red" intersection. You will pay. Of course if you do really bad stuff like steal and things, well that goes without saying.

One day (not too far back as worm is only five weeks old) he witnessed an injustice. An elderly lady (blue hair, cat's eye glasses, and a polyester pantsuit) was driving to dinner around 3:30pm (the early bird special, hence her name) when Malcolm witnessed her driving down the street at 15 miles per hour. The posted speed limit was 30 miles an hour and driving this slow was dangerous. To make matters worse the lady rolled through a stop sign, barely peering over the steering wheel.

Malcolm spun around in his swaddle cloth, turning it into his costume and transformed into, the worm. Using his powers of flatulence he was able to bore through the ground at high speeds cutting right under the roadway. As he surfaced to confront the Early Bird he realized that she had taken an illegal left down the wrong way of a one way street and gotten away.

"Next time, Early Bird, next time!" Worm shouted and shook his fist (tightly wrapped in his swaddle).

The next day Malcolm decided that he should attempt to infiltrate the Early Bird's lair so he disguised himself as a duck (see below) and figured that ducks and birds get along. Now for those of you following along it is clear that the Early Bird isn't actually a bird, but Malcolm is only five weeks old and he takes things very literally so it is of no surprise that her moniker confused him.

That afternoon Malcolm snuck up on the Early Bird, seeing him come close she threw bread crumbs at him (which distracted him) and then walked away. She foiled him again.

Worm knows that there will be a next time. And next time he will prevail. It isn't clear that Early Bird recognizes that there will be a next time, for it isn't exactly clear that she even knows that she is the mortal enemy of a small infant.

Until next time...

Oh the Injustice. . .

This is La Vaca, the Cow (aka Malcolm's mother), writing for Worm who is so overwhelmed by the injustice of the world that he has not stopped crying all the waking day. The Agriculturalist (aka Malcolm's father) and I have been desperately trying to devise a means to help relieve Worm of his suffering but alas nothing is working.

Usually, after a trying day of composting the world's most evil, Worm likes to unwind by listening to his favorite band, The Vacuum Cleaner. But today even the melodic stylings of the Cleaner is not enough to soothe him.

We suspect that Early Bird is behind Worm's sudden downturn. Last week Worm and Early Bird engaged in an epic struggle. Early Bird had the upper hand for most of the fight but Worm was able to successfully wiggle his way out of Early Bird's clutches. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to apprehend her at that time. This failure to bring Early Bird to justice may have triggered Worm's emotional downfall.

Let's hope, for all our sakes, that he's able to pull out of it soon. For I shutter to think of what will happen if he doesn't. . .

Me and my brother Oreo

The life of a superhero can get pretty lonely. You have to be careful who you let into your inner circle. For it is hard to tell who likes you for you and who's just trying to bask in the glory of your fame. That's why I'm so fortunate to have such a loving, supportive family to go home to at the end of the day. It's great to be able to let my guard down and unwind after a long day of fighting injustice. My family loves me for me--slime and all.

Take my big brother, Oreo. We didn't always get along. In fact he was mighty critical of me when I was younger. Nothing I did was ever good enough for him. He would literally run away whenever I entered the room. After a particuarly nasty fight, my dad had to actually coax him out from underneath the bed, correction from inside the boxspring, and make him apologize to me.

But recently we've begun to forge a more meaningful relationship. It all started when Oreo decided to finally sit down and share a meal with us. Unfotunately there wasn't a lot of room on Mom's lap and he fell off. Not to be detered Oreo jumped right back up there and eventually managed to eek out a spot in the little room between Mom's lap and the Boppy. Now he frequently joins me while I fuel up (though most of the time he is hiding underneath my crib--so as not to appear too clingy). It means a lot that he has started taking an interest in me.

And just today as I was resting up for my night of composting evil, Oreo came over and licked my feet. I must admit to being a bit startled at this sudden display of brotherly affection. In fact I was so startled I kicked him in the face. But he graciously forgave me and even licked me again.

So while I realize we may not see eye to eye on everything--I'm never going to get use to his scratchy tongue licks, he's never going to be really into my favorite band, The Vacuum Cleaner--I am grateful that I have such a loving brother with whom to share my home, my life, and my troubles.

Here I am: My name is Malcolm Theodore Reed. Most of the time I am innocent looking. But if I see injustice I get upset. Real upset. Watch me get upset at the injustice of being clean.