"Today I was a hero."

Today was his first day of before-school care. I must be at work by 7:15 and live 50 minutes from work, so he has to get there early. He whined and complained - so early, so boring, all babies, on and on and on. I was bracing myself for complaints when he got off the bus. Instead, he came to the door and announced his homework was already done. We sat down for an early dinner.

"I was a hero today."

"Really? How?"

"I was at that daycare place this morning, and there was a little kid [toddler] rocking on a chair. The teacher kept telling the kid to stop rocking, stop rocking, but he didn't. I saw the chair going over backwards, and I just dove across for it. If it was a big kid like me I wouldn't care, but I wasn't letting that tiny little kid's head hit that hard floor! I caught his little head in one hand and my other arm got cut up on the chair foot thing when it fell.  The teacher told me I'm a hero!"

He pulled up his right sleeve, and sure enough, the front of his forearm is bruised and scraped like something metal had been dragged across it.

I love that his instinct in that situation was to immediately jump in and protect someone smaller. Under all of the anxiety, grief, and anger is a heart of gold. I am determined to help him pull back the layers and uncover it.