We went to the doctor the other day for my daughter Lucy’s nine-month checkup. It included a smorgasbord of shots.

And I got to hold her down.

I was pretty nervous on the ride there, and I wasn’t even the one getting the shots. As we were driving, I told Kim that I would rather receive the shots myself than have to see Lucy get them.

“Spoken like a true Dad,” said my wife.

I’m not sure what suddenly made me a glutton for punishment, but I didn’t say that to come across like some macho dude. I really meant it. Which surprises even me.

You see, I’m not one of those manly men, with hair on his knuckles and steel hands that can pulverize granite. Nor could I be considered a metrosexual because I have the fashion sense of a twelve-year-old. I like to think of myself as a normal guy — whatever that means these days — but I am not a big fan of pain. Manual labor gives me the heebie-jebbies. I sometimes curse like a sailor when I’m in below zero temperatures. And I am likely to faint if I’m in a discussion that spends more than thirty seconds talking about anything internal: spine alignments, organ transplants, brain surgery…woah….I just got a little woozy.

Even though I have a history of going out of my way to avoid just about anything uncomfortable, I’d literally jump in front of a moving train to save Lucy. Without batting an eye.

They say Fatherhood changes a man. I’m not sure if it changes you or reveals a side that you never knew was there.

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always dreamed of being like Superman. I admired his courage and bravery and selflessness in protecting the citizens of the world. After having revealed some of my shortcomings, you can see why I’d concede that becoming more like Jimmy Olsen is probably a more realistic goal.

Somehow, having Lucy has caused me to see that maybe I’ve been selling myself short. Somehow, Fatherhood enabled me to find courage I didn’t even know was there. It’s kind of neat to think that Dads get to play the role of Superman, if only to the little citizens that live in their house.

Huh.

I wonder if this Fatherhood thing changes anything about how good I’d look in spandex and a cape.

Jason Kotecki is a dad who also moonlights as an artist, author, and professional speaker. Jason and his wife Kim (a former kindergarten teacher) make it their mission in life to fight Adultitis and help people use strategies from childhood to create lives with less stress and more fun. Stop by www.KimandJason.com and follow them on Twitter @kimandjason