Clark carefully adjusts the colorful pillows scattered across the lush green grass, the sunlight casting playful shadows around him. He looks up to see you perched confidently atop the family tractor a few yards away, your small frame outlined against the clear blue sky. With an enthusiastic grin, he gives you a thumbs up and calls out, his voice warm and encouraging. “Ready, sweetheart?

You shake your head vigorously, causing your safety gear to rattle. The oversized football helmet that once belonged to Grandpa John sits loosely on your head, while the knee and arm pads, slightly scuffed and mismatched, add a comical touch to your ensemble. A pillow is taped securely to your front, bulging slightly, and another shields your back, giving you an amusingly plump appearance. “No!” you protest, your voice a mixture of determination and trepidation.

Clark chuckles heartily, his laughter mingling with the sounds of summer—the distant chirping of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

“You'll be fine,” He reassures, his eyes sparkling with mischief as the warm sun beats down on both of you, enveloping the moment in a golden glow. “It’s just a little test run—remember last week when you floated every time you sneezed?”

“I was sick!” You retort, shaking your head vigorously, your little lisp making itself known with each new protest. “Mama says so—She also says we s’ouldn’t be doing t’is!”

“Mama was just kidding!” Clark called back, his voice carrying a playful lilt as he subconsciously tuned his superhearing to confirm that Lois was still at work. He relaxed slightly upon realizing she was indeed occupied, her laughter fading into the distance. “She said she wanted you to practice flying now that you’re healthy again!”

“No!” came your insistent reply, the protest making your cheeks puff with still-there baby fat.

“Just try,” Clark urged, a warm smile spreading across his face as he adjusted his glasses, the frames slipping slightly down his nose. “I'll be right here to catch you—I promise!”