The 'hero' thing just never stops

So we're on vacation at the shore. The kids are riding the rides on the boardwalk. C very kindly goes on some of the smaller "kiddie" rides with her little sister. They're in these fire boats - the two girls in the front, and a boy and his sister in the back. The ride ends, and L starts to get out. C grabs her. B and I are watching from behind the barrier. We're telling L to sit down and wait for the ride attendant, when out of the corner of our eyes we see the little boy (about 2 yrs old) behind our girls stand up. C can't turn in her seat any more (she's nearly 5' tall at 9 yrs old) and is actively holding her sister, so B reaches across the fence to try to grab the boy. He can't reach. Next thing I know, he's flinging himself over this chest-high fence from the reaching position he was in and grabbing the boy, who by this point had stood up, fallen backward, and was being held inches above the (icky) water by his toes which caught on the lap chain. He then calmly hands the boy to his father, grabs L and hands her over the fence to me, and walks away with C.

The boy's mom is standing next to me, crying, because she couldn't get to him. She thanks B, who is trying to get away, then thanks me, and tells me what a special guy I have. (As if I didn't already know...)

Later that night, B told me that he remembers nothing between seeing the boy falling into the water, and handing him off to his father. He shows me the huge scrape on his shin, and the forming bruise on his knee.

People sometimes ask how I can stand being married to a cop. Doesn't it bother me? Don't I worry? Sure. I worry. But this is who he is. I won't ask him to be something he isn't. Maybe anyone would have done the same for that boy... I don't know. All I know is that he saw it, he acted, and a boy went home with his family, safe, dry, and with good memories.