children and firemen

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March 14, 2007 | parenthood, social life?

Yesterday Fecklet and I went to visit my friend Harriet and her two children, a boy aged three and a girl aged about twenty months. Fecklet was fractious, so we went for a walk to the swings and then as a special treat, to the fire station round the corner from Harriet’s house, for the children to see the fire engines, and for the mums to see the firemen.

So we wheeled the pushchairs to the station, walking slowly and peering through the windows at the engines. And the long-haired fireman playing his long hose over the surface of one of them. We couldn’t get much of a view, so we went round to the side, where Harriet’s three-year-old was very excited by a forklift that kept on coming by.

Then the long-haired fireman appeared, and asked us, with a smile, whether we wanted to take a look at the engines. Of course Harriet and I said yes, telling the children how lucky they were, all the time checking out the fireman and his snug-fitting t-shirt, his well-developed arms. (Well, I was. Harriet is more dignified.)

When we got to the engine, the three-year-old boy was too frightened to climb aboard and wanted to go home, much to our disappointment. Fireman promised we could come back any time, and said goodbye to us, with a definite wink in my direction. I held back my giggles long enough to get out of sight, and then squealed to Harriet, “He winked at me!!!!”

I tell you I am learning a lot about how to stay sane as a parent.