Who's your favorite superhero?

The answer made me want to cry. I kept thinking about it till my over tired eyes finally fell asleep. C-dog has always been a challenging child. He joined our family when he was five. A laundry list of foster homes preceeded his arrival. He tested us! He still does. Lately it has been pretty bad. The loose all your privealges, you may never leave your room again bad. So last night when he finally earned some much needed play time with a friend I got a call from the neighboor.  "Hey can you come quick, you have a hurt boy?" I ran to find  a boy who while jumping on the trampoline which is at ground level slipped and caught his leg between the frame and the brick edges of the hole holding the trampoline. A huge gash in his leg and I could see bone. OUCH!!! I was going to post a pic. It's a little to gruesome, so I will spare you. I arranged for some help at home called Mr. M to meet me at the ER. We arrived a nurse immediatley saw the gash walk in. She hauled my boy off to the side and cleaned and covered the wound. She turned to me when C-Dog was not listening and said she saw bone. She warned he may need surgery, so no food or drinks. My great friend brought dinner and a DS.  He was x-rayed played a  floor game of checkers with Dad. He was a trooper so to see  him walking around the waiting room with his blood soaked bandage you would have thought there was a tiny scratch hiding under the gauze and tape, not a big ugly hole. Lots of hours of waiting over, and we see the Dr and PA. The x-ray looks fine and we can sew this boy up. We were so excited to not need anything more than some happy meds and 100 or so stiches. The PA said there was no way he was even going to bother counting. Three layers of stitches in that leg. In order to fix him up right they needed him loopy and relaxed. They shot some miserable stuff up his nose to accomplish this and he soon became a comedic side show. All the normal inhibitions gone. The nurse holding his feet down asked him,  "who is your favorite super hero?" "My DAD" awwwww...... but nobbody believed him. I even questioned it.(shame on me!) The nurse asked again,  "No really, who is your favorite superhero?"  "MY DAD"  he meant it, and I really had to hold back some tears. My poor sweet, tuff boy who always trys to hide what is really going on just let them know under no uncertian terms who his HERO is.Truth be told, I have huge crush on his hero.That same superhero who held his scared boys hand through the entire procedure. We learned a few other things while he was loopy and I might actually understand some of his yucky attitude lately. I remember asking my husband before bed if he really understood the full impact of that statement and what he means to his little boy? Silly question, of coarse he does. I am so happy his super hero is his Dad!!