1994. Dreams come true. When I was 5, I would spend every afternoon watching Wonder Woman and the Brady Bunch. Afterward, I would grab foil from the kitchen, slap it on my wrists and twirl in the yard until the sun set. My grandpa, hoping I would wear a cape with an S instead, was always throwing the foil away and encouraging a more make role model, but my grandmother, more likely in exasperation and frugality over how much foil I was wasting, finally began saving my magic cuffs in the drawer. 15 years later, I got out my hot glue gun and found myself running through the streets of San Jose as Wonder Woman, the way I had always imagined.
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