Here’s the story: it’s Friday (almost) and there’s this amazing group of women who gather on Twitter and share chocolate and stories as we wait for Lisa Jo to post a prompt. Then we write like fiends for 5 minutes. No edits, no take backs, and join her over at her site to share some love. Come on in and join up!
You think of a cape, the back flying out in the wind and the hero standing, fists on hips, looking into the setting sun. It’s the image of a hero. The thought of a knight in shining armor. But in reality, a true hero rarely wears a cape.
A real hero doesn’t ask for thanks, he just continues to get up at night when the babe cries, because he knows that you’re bone tired and need the rest. He oils your favorite cowboy boots to keep out the rain, because he knows it’s not something you would think of. He changes the oil in your car, not because it’s standard maintenance, but because he knows it helps keep you safe when you commute.
A true hero gives you a sip (or half) of his pop when you say you don’t want one of your own (but secretly you do). A true hero sits with and holds you when the pregnancy test is negative, again. He makes you laugh when you drive to the hospital for surgery, and your heart is in knots because it means the end to so much. He sleeps on the bench/couch in the hospital room and lets you borrow his glasses because you forgot yours. He comes home from work to build a fire, because you suck at it and you’re cold. He holds your hand when you cry and rejoices in your success. He makes you smile, even when you’re mad at him, which just makes you all the madder, and more in love with him by the moment.
And sometimes, when the time is right and the boy has asked, he even wears a cape, and the pretend to be superheros. But really, he doesn’t have to pretend. Not for me. Not for the kids. Because of how he loves us, he’ll always be our hero.