It began when I was 4 years old. I found a baby blanket with the satin binding ripped loose on one end. I slipped my head through the loop that it formed, and that’s when it happened — I was Underdog!

Underdog’s cape was solid blue, while mine was white with pink and blue bunnies on it, but it didn’t matter. I had a cape, so I was a superhero. Simon Bar Sinister, you had a need to fear because Underdog — and his bunny cape — was here!

I pedaled my tricycle around the driveway as fast as my legs could pump, hoping the cape would flap in the wind, because — I was flying!

As I grew older, my daydreams grew into Spider-Man, Wolverine or even Space Ghost. I swung across city landscapes or whole planets, saved beautiful — and kissably appreciative — damsels in distress, and zapped or shredded anything that dared challenge us.

Ah, the imagination of youth. Now, 60-some years later… I STILL daydream that I’m flying or climbing walls or leaping tall buildings in a single bound. It’s just that my superpowers imaginings have morphed into feats more practical and wistful.

Now, I fantasize about possessing the superpower of telekinesis. No more bending over to pick up the fork I dropped. Or pushing myself back out of my easy chair just after getting comfy when I’ve discovered that I left my Pop-Tarts in the kitchen. They’d come to me.

Or how about the superpower of invisibility? That’s an introvert’s dream.

Whenever forced to attend a big social function, instead of cowering against the wall in the farthest corner I can find, I’d simply disappear. Poof! No more social anxiety.

Wrestler John Cena’s catchphrase is, “You can’t see me,” right after which his opponent decks him. Yeah, they saw him.

But me, I’d invoke the superpower of invisibility and stay home.

As a superhero, I’d need a vehicle. Not something like the Batmobile. I imagine a flying car that could skip over all traffic jams.

Or how about a super sidekick like, say, Dumbo the flying elephant? I’ve always wanted a pet elephant. Might as well have one with superpowers.

What I absolutely don’t need is amazing strength like Superman. That would be as bad as having the superpower of owning a pickup truck — people would constantly beg me to help them move, maybe even by picking the whole house in a single lift so Dumbo and I could fly the whole thing to a new address.

This is why the superpower of invisibility would be so handy.

When I was in my teens, I drooled at the thought of the places I could sneak into and the sights that I could see if I was invisible. Now I just want invisibility to stay home and get out of performing super deeds.

When I was a young married man with kids, I learned that a dad’s expected superpowers tended toward twisting stubborn lids of peanut butter jars in a single grunt (plus an “oof” and an “ugh” or two).

I also flew into action any time my wife or daughter saw a spider in the bathtub. Spiders are the arch nemesis of dad superpowers.

What dads don’t have is super hearing or super smell. We have the ability for super sleep — until shaken awake by a beautiful spouse in distress hissing, “Did you hear that?” or “Something smells hot,” followed by the command: “Go check it out.”

I would rush right into action in a super shuffle and grumble until I found the couch so that I could finish my sleep, thus proving my superpowers — all imaginary burglars, fires, monsters and spiders of the night fled when Super Dad stumbled into action!

And now I know why Batman wears such a long cape — it’s really a blankie, much like the one I wore when I was 4 years old. When we superheroes get tired of flexing our powers and need a nap, we’ve already got our blanket with us. It’s the superpower of snooze preparedness.

Sometimes, our capes come with little super pink and blue bunnies.

Fly into action with Cole at burton.w.cole@gmail.com or on the Burton W. Cole page on Facebook.