My superpower is the ability (however rough it may be) to manage mundane tasks, day in and day out, while maintaining a level of enthusiasm that (hopefully) generates a narcissistic appreciation from my family, friends, religious institution leaders, secular institution leaders, and the local grocery store workers. The little tasks that demand my attention (and yours) every day can wear out mere mortals on a subatomic level.
When my kids were small, mundane tasks took on the scope and sequence of launching a rocket into space. Just getting them dressed in the morning “to run errands with mommy” with reasonable clothing in place, required multiple protein shakes, a few lonely screams (mine) from inside a dark closet, and a call to my therapist. Once the kids were loaded and vaguely settled into the car, I held mental debates as to whether or not I was actually going to stop and take them into a place of business with me. Just getting them into the store with shoes on, and without sibling fights where someone was sticking their fingers into the other kid’s mouth, should have been enough to warrant a nomination for a peace prize from some nation, somewhere – anywhere.
That is my summation of a superpower that I held for several years. It was there when I needed to put on a cape, and it was there when I didn’t feel like I could ever pick up or even look at a cape again. I also noticed a similar cape on my sister. Her superpower took a huge hit when her only child passed away from an opioid overdose. As I am older, wearier (not necessarily wiser), fraying, and looking for glasses, I have discovered that the only portion of the superpower that I now possess is the ability to smile and nod my head when it looks as if someone is talking in my direction. I am good with that.