September 22, 2003
Firetruck.
Yesterday Trevor and I went for a walk into town. We have done this a few times over the last couple of weeks and it is pretty nice. Tara had called us while she was out and let us know that the town fire department which had just officially opened their new building was having an open house. They had the street blocked off and were giving people tours of the building as well as letting the kids climb all over the trucks. Trevor and I left almost immediately hoping to catch some of the fun.
Living about a mile or so from the station and walking with a 5 year old whose legs have great ambition but little else to back them up didn’t help things. It took us nearly 45 minutes to get there including three stops to Trevor could “power up” his legs. This kid has been watching too many video games with me behind the controller.
When we arrived at the station they had already put all the trucks away and were cleaning up. Damn. I hate disappointing him, it’s tough. He doesn’t quite understand yet that most of the time these kinds of things are beyond my control and that there really isn’t a whole lot that can be done about it. So, we didn’t let it stop us. There was still one truck parked outside so we crossed the street, and while letting Trevor know that we couldn’t go inside we looked at the one truck available.
Imagine the scene, four or five firemen milling about clearly having just cleaned up the event. A dad and son walk up to the driveway holding hands looking at the one truck left and trying not to intrude on their work by staying out on the sidewalk. It was only a matter of time. One of the firemen came out and sheepishly asked if we would like to come inside and look around. It was great! We got our own private time in the station without all the crowds and people bugging us. Trevor and I walked around and poked at all the trucks and gear. I explained what a fire pole was and he looked at me in disbelief with wide eyes. We laughed about all the hoses rolled up against one wall. (I don’t know why) Then we walked over to the police station and ogled a few Harley Davidson police motorcycles. I was pretty pleased with the whole event.
Trevor is a good kid and deserves all the time and playing with Mom and Dad in the world, but as most parents know that isn’t realistic. Work, home, bills, stuff…everything seems to get in the way of spending that time with him. Most of the time we can see that he handles it well, but from time to time it starts to show and he needs a little more attention. It was great to be able to focus only on him for a few solid hours yesterday.