I had this conversation with my niece last week.

She's five going on 30, as apparently many five-year-olds are. Melanie pointed it out the other night. You know, that five is sort of a creepy age. They're like these really small big kids. But their direct caregivers aside, most of us don't get this, you see.

So we treat them like the babies they were last week when one day they just kind of look up at you, noses scrunched, faces full of expression, wondering why you're such an idiot. Coins don't grow out of ears. You're not really stupid enough to believe that, are you?

In any case, as long as I've known her, and that's been the whole 5 1/2years (I forgot the half before), Megan has been preoccupied with superheroes.

For dress-up days at school, she would transform into SuperMegan, sporting a costume bearing a giant S, which my sister crafted by hand. I probably would've bought one of those Saran Wrap versions from the grocery store, myself, but that's the difference between my sister and me. That, about six inches in height and like 12 million other things.

But before SuperMegan there was Batgirl, a favourite for what seemed like forever. Not to mention the myriad wands, swords, hats and capes, all of which held superhero powers in one form or another and all of which were stashed in spots all over the house.

So while it may be difficult to pull the wool over the eyes of at least this 5 1/2-year-old, she will believe what she wants to believe. Not unlike most 30-something-year-olds.

Yes, of course he/she will change. Whatever. No they won't. And you'll learn that when you're ready to believe it.

In any case, my father, who will take any opportunity to suck up to his grandchildren (Note: not to his children, just to his grandkids) and who also fancies himself quite hilarious (not so, but he does have an audience with the three-to-five-year-old crowd), jumped all over the superhero thing.

And he successfully convinced Megan he has a superpower in the form of X-ray vision. He can see through walls, skulls, what have you. And because she wanted to, Megan believed it.

Not only did she believe he has X-ray vision, but one day, when they were horsing around, he accidentally coughed on her. And when he did, his superpower left his body and hopped over into hers. Because that's how these things work, apparently.

She was telling her best friend, Ally, all about her good luck recently on a car ride home from somewhere or other. Seems to me, Megan and Ally have been friends since they were learning to walk. At the very least from back in the days when they were learning to speak. And you know how it is when you haven't talked to your best friend in awhile? A week apart and you can be on the phone for an hour, catching up.

Well, I guess that's what it's like for Megan and Ally all the time. They have all those early years to make up for or something. Because while I always figured two kids that age would be friends only because their moms pushed them together, such is not the case with these two.

I mean, the moms are friends and all, but still. The two five-year-olds chatter and giggle incessantly. You've gotta wonder what about. What are the five-year-olds discussing all the freaking time?

Well, as it turns out, superpowers for one. My sister listened in as Megan and Ally conversed quite seriously about Megan's newfound X-ray vision. Megan explained how it works, and Ally was very interested to know if she can see through this or that.

"When you look at me," Ally inquired, "do you see rocks?"

"No. Why?" Megan answered.

"Because my daddy says I have rocks in my head," Ally replied, matter-of-factly.

Now, don't get all worked up into a lather. The kid is happy, the parents are normal and I, as we all, assume the comment was made in jest. Like the dad was joking around and made the comment playfully, instead of saying something like "You're being silly." Gad. The gasps of horror I've heard when telling this story. Lighten up.

In any case, Megan and I were discussing her new superpower last week. I asked the usual questions: How does it work, what can you see, that sort of thing.

After a few minutes of explaining it all to me, she leaned over, cupping her hands over her mouth and whispered, "I don't really have X-ray vision, Auntie Sheryl." All with that "What're you, an idiot?" expression on her face.

It's too bad, though. I really wanted to believe.

snadler@thespec.com