This trend hits several sweet spots for middle and high schoolers:

It's relatable AF. Everyone has catchphrases or habits they fall back on. Pointing them out feels like an inside joke with yourself that everyone else gets too.

It's low-stakes vulnerability. Teens are navigating identity formation, and this trend lets them be self-aware without being too serious. It's easier to joke about being "the person who always says 'I'm so tired'" than to talk about actual exhaustion or stress.

It requires zero production value. Point at the camera, add text, done. No dance choreography, no fancy editing, no elaborate setup. Just you and your stupid line.

It builds connection. When your kid posts their "stupid line" and 47 classmates comment "SO TRUE" or "literally you," that's social currency. It's a way of saying "you know me" without having deep conversations.

The original song "Superman" by Scraps is actually pretty clever — it's about someone calling out another person's predictable, performative behavior. The full context is more biting than the meme suggests, but that's how internet culture works. A single line gets extracted, recontextualized, and becomes something entirely new.

The band Scraps is relatively obscure, which adds to the appeal for teens who love discovering "underground" music through TikTok. Don't be surprised if your kid suddenly knows every word to a nine-year-old indie-rock song you've never heard of. That's just how music discovery works now.

The biggest consideration here is the negative self-talk element. While self-awareness is healthy, constantly labeling your own behaviors as "stupid" isn't great for developing brains still forming their sense of self.

Some questions to consider:

There's a difference between "my stupid line is 'wait what' because I space out" (relatable, lighthearted) and "my stupid line is 'sorry' because I'm annoying and nobody likes me" (concerning red flag).

Like most social media trends, this one invites comparison. Kids scroll through hundreds of these videos, seeing everyone else's quirky catchphrases and inside jokes with their friend groups. If your kid feels like they don't have a "stupid line" or their life isn't interesting enough to meme about, that can feed into feelings of being boring or left out.

Given that only 8% of families in your area allow TikTok and 5% allow Instagram, if your child is participating in this trend, they're likely either:

If your kid isn't on these platforms but feels FOMO about trends like this, that's actually a great conversation starter about how social media shapes teen culture and whether the tradeoffs are worth it.

Ages 10-12: If your preteen is seeing these videos, they might not fully grasp the self-deprecating humor. They may take the "stupid" label more literally. Watch a few together and talk about the difference between laughing with yourself versus being genuinely mean to yourself.

Ages 13-15: Peak participation age. This is when kids are most likely to create and share these videos. Monitor for whether the self-deprecation feels proportionate and healthy, or if it's masking actual negative self-perception. Also a good time to discuss digital footprints — these videos don't disappear.

Ages 16+: Older teens often use this trend with more sophisticated humor and irony. They're more likely to get the original song context and play with the format creatively. Still worth checking in about negative self-talk, but they generally have more perspective.

Instead of lecturing, try curiosity:

"I keep seeing this Superman thing everywhere — what's your stupid line?"

This opens the door for them to explain the trend and maybe share what they'd post (or have posted). You get insight into how they see themselves.

"Do you think calling stuff 'stupid' about ourselves is funny or actually kind of mean?"

Let them work through the nuance. Many kids will say "it's just a joke" — which is partly true — but pushing gently on whether jokes can reinforce negative thinking is valuable.

"What would someone who really knows you say your catchphrase is?"

This shifts from self-criticism to self-awareness. Maybe they don't realize they say "I'm fine" when they're clearly not, or "it's whatever" when they're actually disappointed. That's useful information for both of you.

The "Come on Superman" trend is mostly harmless — it's teens being self-aware about their predictable behaviors and finding community in shared quirks. The music is fine (if a bit emo), the format is simple, and the participation barrier is low.

The real parenting work here isn't about the trend itself, but about the underlying dynamics:

If your kid wants to make a "stupid line" video and it's genuinely funny and lighthearted, that's probably fine. If they're spiraling into negative self-talk or feeling left out because they're not on these platforms, that's the real conversation to have.

And honestly? We all have our stupid lines. Mine is probably "sorry, what were you saying?" because I'm constantly distracted by seven browser tabs and a mental to-do list. Self-awareness isn't the enemy — cruelty toward ourselves is.

Remember: one trend won't make or break your kid's relationship with social media or themselves. But paying attention to patterns — in their content consumption, their self-talk, their emotional responses — that's the real work of digital parenting.