superman vs. the vanity

At 6:00 yesterday morning, in the pitch-black of our room we had this exchange . . .

Superman: "Why isn't it breakfast time?"
The Dad: "Because breakfast time comes after chores."
Superman: "Breakfast time comes after chores?"
The Dad: "Yep."
Superman: "Well, get out of bed and start making breakfast RIGHT NOW."

Here are the pictures of Superman's sad face.
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WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!
JOHN SAYS THAT THESE PICTURES WILL MAKE YOU SICK!

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at our first hospital

poor little fella

he napped for a while while we were waiting to find out if his brain was squished

in the second hospital waiting for the plastic surgeon, holding the raddest balloon ever

iodine all over his face

sorry it's so washed out, but for some reason the surgeon had this super bright light shining on his work area--selfish!

stitching up his mouth

all done, but still woozy from the drugs

waiting to wake up so he can eat a popsicle

The nurse, who was very sweet and reassuring, brought Superman the grape popsicle he asked for. They wanted to make sure he could keep food down before they discharged us.

Superman: (eats tiny piece of popsicle)
The Mom: "Do you want some more popsicle?"
Superman: "Get a bowl."
The Mom: (frantically looks around for a receptacle, finds none, and hurriedly shoves the styrofoam cup holding the popsicle under his chin)
Superman: "Bllllluuuuuuurrrrrgh!" (barfs and fills the styrofoam cup with the piece of popsicle and all the blood he had swallowed since the sink fell on him)