When you’re a kid, sticks are swords, rocks are grenades, and the neighbor’s yard is a land far, far away. Or the old west. Or Gotham City. Pretty much whatever you need it to be that day. You could imagine into existence anything you wanted. You’d pull out those rain boots, don the Halloween mask from last year and admire yourself in front of the mirror. And what you looked like to everyone else didn’t even cross your mind, because for a few hours that afternoon—you were Batman.