Heroes

Just so you know, I just learned how to correctly spell the word "heroes." No joke, until about 20 seconds ago, I was certain it was spelled heros.

Anyway, I know that the following picture looks like it was taken 100 years ago...underwater...with a homemade camera. I guess my camera, just like me, does not like to work before 9 a.m.

Little K left for camp this Monday, and this is a picture of her standing in line to board the bus. We were both so horrified for her to leave that I don't know who had the harder time. It's a camp through the school district, but she only knew of one person who would be there. One! Ugh!

I am constantly telling her how much braver she is than I was at her age. Monday morning, however, she proved that she is even braver at her age than I am at mine. I was the very last parent to leave the parking lot. The very last one.

My hero.
And this past week, I've learned a few more things about heroes.

I learned that heroes ride motorcycles...even if they are really, really small motorcycles.
And heroes love explosives.
When a hero throws a birthday party, his muscles (as well as those of certain preschool friends) grow. A lot.
Heroes own bubble lawnmowers that are so tough, they can even mow rocks.
Heroes, as well as their older sisters, have small bladders. So at a very early age, they learn how to pee outdoors.
Heroes hold babies while wearing pink. And they love it.

Heroes are never too famous or powerful or handsome to hug their dads.
But they do often give their mothers the "Just a minute!" finger when they are asked to smile for a picture.
Caped heroes ride bikes much faster than non-caped heroes.
And they usually ride in packs.
Heroes help old men to climb up stairs,
And sometimes...just sometimes...will stop mid-mow to give their dads a snuggle.
Heroes can stop the Snake River with just one small pebble...each.
And they are never afraid of heights, or old bridges, or nap time.
They always lay their "ride" on it's side when helping a stranger.
Always. (Yes, little P really did copy B when he laid his bike down.)
And, most importantly, heroes love each other. A lot.
Thanks to Aunt Jen for making P and B reversible super-hero capes for their birthdays. Obviously, they LOVE them!

But heroes are not just men. Oh, no. They are women too. As some of you may have seen in my Facebook post, I saved a life yesterday.

Get comfy, it's story time.

Over two years ago, we went to a school carnival and we won three, tiny, feeder gold fish. We put them in the tank and told the kids to expect them to be dead by morning. But here we are, two years later and the three gold fish are all between 3 and 5 inches long. We call them our "food storage".

Then yesterday I was feeding the kids dinner, and as I put P in his chair I noticed that the middle sized fish had jumped out of the tank and landed on the floor under P's chair. That's right, our tank has no lid. The water around him was totally dry and as I picked him up he was stiff and so dry that he actually stuck to the floor. Yuck. BUT... after years of diapers I am immune to gross, and I immediately flung into action (mostly due to the begging of my children to "save the fish".) The following pictures, illustrated by yours truly, show a step-by-step account of how I saved the day...er, fish.

True story people, with witnesses. I CPR'd that fish (minus the mouth to mouth), squeezed out the air in his lungs and made him suck in water...and it actually worked! For about an hour after, I was calling him our TBI fish (traumatic brain injury) on account of his inability to swim straight and his preference to flip in circles around the tank, but this morning he was fine. Totally fine. Hero, total Hero.