We live in a world of heroes, superheroes. Some of them are bulletproof, and others can outrace trains. If you’ve ever turned on the TV, you’ve heard stories of their triumphs and misfortunes. The supers are our first line of defense against alien invaders, rampaging sea monsters, and maniacal academics with time and funding on their hands – you get the idea.

 Nowadays, you can’t go a day without seeing superheroes in the news or on the covers of magazines in the supermarket checkout lines. Just last week, the world celebrated the birth of Miss Mayhem and Jolt’s second child together, a little girl named Rosie.

 You might be asking yourself, what do superheroes and their children have to do with me? Well, let me tell you. While our fearless superheroes battle the forces of evil, I am called in to face another kind of foe – their super-powered children.

 Who am I? Clary Potter, superhero babysitter, and this is my story.

___

 Like any superhero origin story, I never intended to go into this line of work. I was born without any extraordinary powers, though, I can drink slushies without getting a brain freeze. I am also extraordinarily good at avoiding red lights and finding empty parking spaces, but I digress.

 My journey started two years ago.

 It was exactly sixteen days after my twenty-seventh birthday, and nothing good was on TV. The date will forever be seared into my memory because instead of the surprise engagement ring from my long-time boyfriend, Stupid Carl; he surprised me with a note on our front door, saying he’d run away to Mexico with a cashier from the local cheese pavilion.

 There I was – heartbroken, hungry, and practically homeless. I had found out the Stupid Carl had been spending the rent money on online Boggle tournaments and had cleaned out the shoebox where I had been saving my tip money for the next month’s rent. Tiny Rosenbaum had given me 48 hours to come up with five thousand dollars or else my next apartment would be smaller and made of cardboard.

___

 My story continues at the convenience store down the street. If you are familiar with superheroes or any kind of action movies, you will know that convenience stores are frequently robbed at gunpoint. It must be in the thug training manual or something. These types of hold-ups give fledgling heroes a “safe” environment to try out their powers before going hand-to-hand with scarier opponents like scientists obsessed with becoming lizards, squid monsters, or purple guys with panini-pressed chins. 

 There were twenty-four hours left until the dead line and was no closer to getting the money. I shuffled into the kitchen and open the cabinets. There was nothing left to eat, only a half-dozen cans of beans that Stupid Carl bought during one of his “health” phases, a dry package of ramen noodles, and something that looked like a tomato.

 My stomach grumbled. I honestly couldn’t remember when the last time I went grocery shopping was or if I had eaten everything in the fridge during my post-break-up haze. It didn’t matter much now. I deserved one last good meal before I was evicted.

 Stupid Carl and I... I mean, my old apartment was just down the street from Sal’s, or as I liked to call it, a little slice of heaven. Sal’s store was a block and a half from the subway entrance, which also meant it was my first and often last chance to get groceries on my way home from the diner where I waitressed.

 I slipped on my heavy clogs and shuffled out the door; my last twenty dollars in hand.

 “Hey Clary,” grunted Jake, from behind the counter. Jake had worked at Sal’s for as long as I could remember and always wore that same, turquoise blue bowling shirt.

 “Hey Jake, how are you?”

 “Surviving,” he replied, wiping the counter down with a rag. “You?”

 I shrug. I wanted to say that I was a frazzled wreck of a human, but I settled with a “Fine.”

 I try not to cringe as I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection on the refrigerator cases. How long had that pizza stain been there?

 Before I could wallow in self-pity any longer, I hurry down the aisle, dropping as many snack food items into my basket as my twenty dollars would buy.

 And then disaster struck...

 Before the traffic light could change color, a giant worm monster erupted from the ground. A slab of asphalt crashed through the glass window, narrowly missing Jake behind the counter. The worm monster surged forward. Cars were tossed in every direction. Just as a red sedan was about to collide with a trio of elderly nuns, who should appear by but the great goddess turned superhero – Artemis.

 As her official press release stated, Artemis, born Amelia Andrews, was the daughter of Zeus and a mortal woman, Susan. Artemis has been imbued with all of the powers of the legendary goddess and the looks that internet models dream of having.

 Like any foolish human at the time, I wandered out of the relative safety of the store to watch Artemis and the worm monster do battle. The worm monster swung its tail, hurling a bus toward the superhero. While most people screamed, running for cover, I saw the girl who would change my life.

 She was four, maybe five years old with golden pigtails. A burning car flew toward the little girl.

 “Run!” I scream, racing as fast as I could to beat the car to the girl. Fortune smiled upon me and I reached the little girl before the car crashed into the ground. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

 The little girl nodded shakily. She tugged at her mermaid-print leggings. “I skinned my knee...”

 “It’s not so bad,” I comfort. “It’s nothing that a bandage won’t fix.” I scoop up the little girl and carry her into the remains of Sal’s in search of a bandage and a post-trauma snack.

___

 “What’s your name?” I asked, dabbing her knee with an antiseptic wipe.

 “Penny,” the little girl replied. Her voice was no louder than a whisper.

 “Penny,” I give her a reassuring smile. “That’s a pretty name. My name is Clary.”

“Like a fairy?” Penny asked, excitedly. I smile. I pull out three colorful bandages from the box in Sal’s first aid kit to choose from. Penny picked a pink bandage with green polka dots. “So, Penny,” I ask. “What are you doing downtown?”

 In my head, I want to ask what in the heck she was doing downtown, alone, during a monster attack. In hindsight, I knew that she wasn’t “technically” alone. Unless she was Matilda Wormwood, most five-year-olds don’t wander the city unattended.

 “My mommy and I were shopping and then the worm attacked,” Penny replied, poking the dots with her finger.

 “Oh, I see.”

 “Do you know where my mommy is?”

 “Penny!” boomed a majestic voice.

 “Mommy!”

 I turn to see the most beautiful woman in the world, nay universe, stroll towards us. Her golden armor glittered under the fluorescent lighting. Penny’s mother was Artemis!

 Penny scooted off the counter and raced over to the superhero. “Mommy!”

 “My baby!” The superhero scooped the small girl in her arms. “You had me so worried. When I didn’t see you at the corner, I was afraid that something might have happened. Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

 Penny shook her head. “Nope.” She pointed over to me. I felt underdressed and completely overcome by Artemis’s sheer awesome. “My new friend, Clary, saved me and gave me a bandage for my knee.” The young girl held up her bandaged knee for her mother’s inspection. “See.” 

 Before this moment, I had always considered myself cool in the face of danger. I was a waitress for Pete’s sake. I didn’t take crap from anybody, let alone a superhero. But... Standing, shoeless no less, in front of one of the greatest superheroes on the planet, I felt as nervous as a kindergartener on their first day of school.

 “Clary, is it?” Artemis took a step towards me. I grabbed the hem of my food-stained shirt and curtsied awkwardly.

 “Y-yeah... I mean, yes ma’am.”

 Artemis held out her hand. “I am forever in your debt.”