On Tuesday night, we joined some other families from our twins club on a tour of a local firehouse. When I told Henry we were going to see some fire trucks, he started signing and jabbering away: “Red truck! Big truck! Firefighter! Big truck!”
Despite the swarm of children there were plenty of firefighters to go around, and we had fun getting up close to the big trucks. Henry and Eleanor got to “drive” the trucks, and we even got a special tour of where the firefighters stay when they are on duty (they work in 24-hour shifts). Eleanor seemed very interested in the firefighter’s sleeping dorm—“firefighter night-night,” she explained. An alarm and loudspeaker announcement spooked Henry, but he allowed himself to picked up and comforted by a fireman that had befriended him. Henry also had fun pointing out the coffee cups on the picnic table in the truck garage (“firefighter coffee!”). Later his new fireman friend told the other firefighters, “Henry’s ready to drink firefighter coffee with us,” to the amusement of the group. One more tour of the trucks, and a demonstration by one firefighter of all her gear, and we called it a night, heading home with shiny new red firefighter hats.
The best part of the tour? The day after, when Henry wore his firefighter hat all day. In fact, I left him in his PJs all day, because a little boy running around your house in teddy bear jammies and a fireman’s hat is just about the best sight in the world.