I really wanted to be Wonder Woman. I dreamed that I would have (and fill out) that shiny, patriotic bathing suit, use a magic lasso on bad guys, and marry Superman. I would pilot my invisible jet over the ocean or just ride on my super husband’s back through the sky. We would stop all evil and look good doing it. Then I outgrew my underoos, went to college, got married, and got a job. My husband is fantastic, but he cannot fly. I pilot a minivan instead of a crime-fighting invisible jet. My kids are obsessed with comic books. About 50% of our conversations are about superpowers, supervillains, ridiculous scenarios, and epic battles. Their favorite characters are mutants, stars of ancient mythology, aliens, or lab experiments gone wrong. But my favorite is Batman. It’s not just because he’s an introvert with depression (like me). Or because he has a dark anger that sometimes makes justice look like revenge (like me). I like Batman because he has zero superpowers (like me). I tell my kids …