The Invasion of the Incredible Hulk

Does the Incredible Hulk have a sword?"  Jonah, four years old, asks me as he cruises his scooter in wide circles on our driveway.  

"Nope," I respond.  "The Hulk is so strong that he doesn't need a sword.  Just his hands."

"Whoa." Jonah stops his scooter to ponder this fact, obviously impressed.  

It's a Monday afternoon, and ever since Jonah returned from a friend's Incredible Hulk-themed birthday party the previous Saturday, he's been bursting with questions about the green superhero who grows so large that he spontaneously explodes out of his clothes.  

Now, my husband and I have nothing against superheroes or the Hulk in particular.  He's a perfectly entertaining character, but prior to this party, we hadn't yet introduced our son to this particular facet of boyhood.  We must be somewhat unusual in this choice, because Jonah turned out to be the only kid at the party who was unfamiliar with this freaky green giant.  He played it off well, though, avoiding humiliation for all us at his ignorance of the cultural icon.  But now, he's hungry to know more, and the questions just keep coming.  

"Is the Hulk a monster?"

"Why are his pants so raggedy?"

"Does the Hulk have friends?"

"Is the Hulk good or bad?"

"What makes the Hulk turn all big and green?"

I try to be patient and answer his questions thoroughly, although I'll admit to having to check the internet for the exact reason that Bruce Banner transforms from human to hulk (it's exposure to gamma rays from an explosion in a bomb testing facility, in case you wondered).  But the truth of the matter is, I have some real ambivalence about the fact that we're entering this particular phase of life with our little boy.  It's a perfectly normal phase, one filled with superheroes and army men, lots of conflicts between the "good guys" and the "bad guys".  I think boys need to go through this stuff as they struggle to understand our crazy world and their place in it, but inevitably, this stage seems to be filled with both violence and commercialism, two concepts we've been pretty much able to control in Jonah's life up to this point.  Don't get me wrong... we certainly don't want to raise him under a rock or something, but it's been one of our greatest gifts to observe his little life unfolding in what we've hoped would be a deep sense of beauty, gentleness, wonder, and joy.  When you're the mom and the dad and your small kids look to you for eveything, and most young children do, it's really not that hard to control this through little decisons, basic stuff like choosing PBS instead of Spongebob or prime time, simple toys like blocks or cars instead of guns or Nintendo, playtime spent mostly outside collecting bugs or wading in a creek rather than in a McDonald's PlayPlace.  Up to now, we haven't done a whole lot of talking about gamma rays or bombs.  

But now the rules are changing on us.  We're suddenly not the only viable influences on Jonah's life.  His little friends on the playground and in preschool are much more articulate and opinionated than they used to be.  On a daily basis, he seems to come to us with ever-increasing knowledge and curiosity about video games, guns, boxing, death, or other concepts that belie the fact that, at the ripe old age of four, his grip on his own innocence is tenuous.  

It's poignant to watch this process unfolding, and to know that despite my best intentions, Jonah's view of the world is changing day by day.  The best we can do is take his little hand and promise to walk with him through this maze of reality...me, Steve, Jonah, and the Incredible Hulk.