Being part of the Kent family means never having a normal life.
I wish I could say it just affected me, but it doesn't. It affects my hypothetical future wife and our hypothetical future children.
And it affects my parents.
...
My parents came to Metropolis on vacation to cheer up my dad. They wound up being drugged and almost killed.
It's not the first time they've gotten caught up in the middle of a story- though in my defence, this time it had nothing to do with Superman. And I get the feeling that it won't be the last.
They're remarkable people, my folks. They just take everything in their stride. Since I became Superman, they've helped me through being forced out of Metropolis, amnesia, and the whole Luthor mess. They've been drugged, held hostage and almost killed when the new automated subway went out of control. And yet, the thing they're talking about after this trip is making a new friend.
I'm glad they're as calm and accepting as what they are. I wonder sometimes if they've always been that way or if it's the product of coping with so much of the out of this world strangeness that came with raising an alien son. Wherever it comes from, I'm deeply appreciative.
And I know that I neglected them a little on this trip. Lois needed my help at least as much as they did.
I hope my parents don't mind playing second fiddle to her sometimes, but I don't think they do. It's hard to imagine them being quite that petty.
I worry about them. The death of Dad's friend Henry- a man I've known my entire life- just serves to remind me that they're getting older. One day they'll be gone.
I just hope it's not because of me.
