Myself, the boy and the missus are sat around the kitchen table after tea (supper or evening meal for readers in the south). The movie X2 is on the TV and myself and the boy are discussing the merits of the film when the missus interjects and asks the boy a question…‘So why is he called Cyclops?’
‘Because he shoots laser blasts out of his eyes.’
‘But that’s not what a cyclops does…’
‘Sorry?’
‘I said that’s not what a cyclops does. A cyclops is a mythical creature which has one eye and… Well that’s it.’
‘Well when Cyclops is in his superhero costume he has a visor with a long thin lens which opens to emit the laser blast. So in effect his blasts come from one focal point or eye so it looks a bit like a cyclops.’
‘But he’s wearing glasses.’
‘He’s not in his costume yet.’
‘Is he short-sighted as well then?’
‘No. It’s just that…’
‘I think Cyclops is a rubbish superhero name.’
‘Well it’s better than two-eyed-mutant-with-potential-short-sightedness-who-shoots-laser-blasts-out-of-his-one-eyed-visor-man!’
There is silence. The missus thinks for a moment. Sometimes this is not a good thing.
‘I’m going upstairs to pack.’
‘Are you leaving us?’
‘Only for a few days. I’m going on a works trip to Italy – and you are now son-who-was-going-to-get-present-but-isn’t-anymore-man.’
I snigger. The missus moves her disapproving gaze onto me. That’s two of us without presents…
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