No, hear me out. First of all, she’s got the beginnings of a very kick-butt “origin story”:
Conceived of the best cells from her mother and father by scientists in a high-tech lab in Los Angeles, cryogenically frozen for three months, thawed, implanted in an ex-military host, born on a high-security military base, and raised by a team comprised of a psychologist, an elementary teacher, and a human resources professional, she is:
Clearly her first super power to develop is Super Vision. After all, she actually wears glasses now because her eyes are too powerful (i.e. farsighted). Any kid can be nearsighted, but not The Gracinator. She actually sees distance too well. Because her right eye sees so well that her brain was actually starting to ignore the left eye a little, she has to wear a patch over her right eye for an hour a day. That’s right, part of her treatment is to handicap her vision. I expect that at some point the ophthalmologist will tell us to patch both eyes so The Gracinator can start to develop her x-ray vision or sonar or whatever her next sensory super power will be.
Another obvious super power is Super Cute. She is just unreasonably, gratuitously cute. Putting on her “flops” (flip-flops) and walking around the house? Cute. Dressing in her tutu and practicing ballet? Cute! Sleeping on the floor with her little butt stuck up in the air? Cute cute cute. Saying “that’s my boy!” and “there’s a smile!” with the twins? Super Cute. I could go on and on.
So although many kids have their childhoods documented on Flickr and YouTube, I’m thinking perhaps the experience of The Gracinator can only be properly documented in another way: comic books.
Harrison will have to draw them, though. He is, after all, The Artist, The Gracinator’s sometime arch nemesis, sometime mentor, always seatbelt helper (The Gracinator has trouble latching her car seat). And he can draw better than Dad.