A close encounter

Do you know how many fire hydrants there are between our house and Biscuit's day care? Well I do!

52. There are 52 fire hydrants between our house and day care.

Do you know how I know that? Because we have to count them every morning.

And every morning, in the process of counting, Biscuit gives me some variation of the following information:

"Mom, firetrucks carry firefighters when they rescue somebody. Some fire trucks are hook and ladder trucks (or hook and wadder as he says it). Some other firetrucks are pump trucks. They carry water. Firefighters use water to put out fires. The pump trucks sends the water through the hose to put out the fire. Then when they run out of water, the firefighters patch the hose into the fire hydrant for more water."

"Sometimes firefighters rescue dogs. And sometimes they rescue people. They climb ladders to reach high up in the sky. The firefighters sleep at the fire station. And when the alarm rings, the firefighters slide down the pole, get their fire coats and their fire hats and their fire pants and their fire boots and they jump on the truck and they turn on the sirens and they go FAST to the fire."

We took Biscuit to the Festival of Lights downtown the other night. We didn't get there in time for the tree lighting, but it was still fun to walk around and hear all different kinds of music and people watch. But the best part for Biscuit happened as we walked from the parking lot to the park where the tree is.

We spotted a real-live fire truck.

Nobody was around except for a couple of police officers, and they seemed preoccupied with the one officer's motorcycle. So I asked Biscuit if he'd like to have his picture taken on the fire truck. The front bumper stuck way out, so Jeff scooped Biscuit up and set him on the front of the truck. That boy was truly amazed! (Jeff and Biscuit both!)

I took a couple of pictures, one from the front and one from the side, and as I got into position to take more, I glanced up and saw a group of firefighters running toward the truck. 

"Um, we're going to have to borrow that truck for a minute," one of the guys yelled.

Jeff grabbed Biscuit, and we hurried to the sidewalk to get out of the way. As soon as Biscuit saw the firefighters getting into the truck, he clamped his hands over his ears. He knew what was coming next. 

The engine turned over, the lights started flashing, the siren started wailing, and away they went.

Biscuit sat there for a couple of minutes with his ears still covered and his mouth hanging open. If 20 years from now I take pictures of Biscuit in his new firefighter uniform, I would not be the least surprised.

(Notice that he has a horse in each hand in these photos. I also wouldn't be surprised if in 20 years Biscuit was a rancher!)