No really. I'm The Batman.
Early one Sunday morning, I awoke to the sound of small children outside my window. As this was pretty odd, I lept from my bed to investigate. Peering out my window, I saw a short parade of kids, aged 3 - 7, apparently walking by themselves, until an older child caught up to them saying, "Wait up, Mom's gotta rest."
Sensing a damsel in distress, I donned my costume (a grey t-shirt with a black bat-emblem and sweats) and rushed onto the sidewalk. Up the street was a young mother struggling with crutches as she attemped to make her way from the nearby hospital to her home a half-mile away. I asked if I could give her and her children a lift, and she quickly took me up on my offer.
I darted back to the bat-driveway and drove the batmobile (disguised at the time as a 1997 Pontiac Grand Am) around to pick her up. I assisted her into the passenger seat as her kids scrambled into the back. She was all smiles and "thank you's" as she told me how she came to this predicament.
A short drive later and we were pulling up to her apartment. As I helped their mother out of the batmobile, one of the children asked, "What's your name?" I puffed out my chest, prominently displaying the bat-symbol on my shirt, and replied very seriously, "I'm Batman." (The kids seemed quite impressed.
Mom blessed Batman and I climbed back into the cockpit. As I made a quick U-turn in the street, I could hear the children shouting, "Thank you, Batman!" as I sped away.
I only wish I'd had my cape.