Oh my kid-beating-heart... Wonder Woman was my idol! I loved her boots and the way her boobies snuggled up in her Wonder Woman bustier and her LASSO. I just LOVED her lasso... it wasn't any form of great life-saving, crime-stopping device in my young, kiddish eyes... that lasso was an ACCESSORY. A glamorous accessory, at that. I wanted one. And I wanted her boots. And boobs so I could wear a bustier and look just like her. 'Cuz I would have, you know, look just like her, no doubt about that, especially at the age of six!!
And the way Diana Prince would run in her boots. She made it look so easy and glamorous. I almost wanted to fight crime, because she made it look so smooth! One Christmas, Santa brought me Wonder Woman Under-Roos!!!
Oh Santa, my other hero!
It was on, after this, I was so close to being the real thing. I would ride the shit out of my rocking horse, pretending that it was my Wonder Woman Invisible Jet (the TV show did not feature an invisible jet, but the cartoon series did, so, being the grand, innovative child-spirit that I was, I combined the two worlds and created an incredible make-believe!). This rocking horse, by the way, was a 1960-something original (It was a hand-me-down, of course, from my older brother) original olden-style rocking horse. That precious mare was suspended from exposed metal springs on a metal-barred frame. It would slide across the bare, dark brown tiles of our welfare apartment and INFURIATE me... I mean COME ON. Wonder Woman's logistics always went smoothly, and I did not like when my Wonder-Horse slid into the wall or the closet door because then she could not gallop, especially not with her nose pinned against a flat surface. I needed her to remain stationary and free! 🤪
But she wouldn't stay put, so I had to incorporate Wonder Horse's travels into my creative scenarios...
A quick note about Wonder Horse... her rear hoof had been chewed off by our German Shepard, Rommel. Sadly, this flaw inhibited me from loving the Wonder Horse completely. It's hard to fathom how superficial I used to be!
But here is the point of this post...
In order to transform into Wonder Woman in the face of crime or danger (complete with amazing boots, headband, lasso, and bustier), Diana Prince would "twirl" three times, usually in a private setting (Like a phone booth... Dunno what that is? Google it.) and TA-DA. Wonder Woman was present and ready, complete with her lasso, ready to run and fight crime in her elegantly spiked boots! So elegantly Wonder Woman would race, with her perfect hair, and fix all that was wrong.
Oh, but she was my hero!!!
So I did it, one day. I prepared. I had the crime scene prepared and I was ready. I was SO GONNA BE WONDER WOMAN. I was gonna twirl THREE TIMES and be her. I remember how excited I was and also how incredulous I felt at NOT twirling sooner! It was pretty black and white to me... twirl and be Wonder Woman!
It didn't work, guys. Not the first time, nor the second, third, fourth... or any of the infinite number of attempts performed for the rest of the day. I was not transforming into Wonder Woman after three twirls... I was heartbroken.
How do you break that reality to a five or six-year-old? You don't... you let the poor soul learn the hard way. NO WONDER WOMAN FOR YOU!!
Silly, but I will never forget that day... it was a milestone in my life; that was the day I lost hope and gained a sense of realism.
Oh... that poor little girl riding the hell out of Wonder Horse with her chewed-up-Rommel hoof. How much wiser she is today.
An addition to this post... the next year Santa brought me the Wonder Woman Barbie Doll. I remember toting that doll with me everywhere... and for some reason, one day, I cut her hair. I remember my mother interrogated me about my motives. I didn't have any, I just did it, I wanted to cut her hair! But, HA HA, as a momma (and grand-momma) now, I get it now... kids... effing up all that you bought with money you didn't actually have! 😂