Tonight was an exciting Friday night. Usually I come home, play with you, have some dinner, put you to sleep, do some reading, and go to sleep myself. This evening it was just about the same except for the two fire trucks that showed up at our door.
While you played under your jungle gym and as we sat for a bowl of delicious veggie soup your mom made, we heard the carbon monoxide alarm beep. We opened the kitchen window and opened the door to our apartment for ventilation. Then, unsure of the next steps, I looked it up online. Most sites suggest you leave the house and immediately call 911. We called our city's information line, 311, which promptly connected us to 911. After repeating our information three times to three different operators, I heard, "Sir, FDNY will respond."
Cool, I thought. Firefighters are coming. I'm going to be 31 in a week and half and I still find fire trucks and all the cool equipment very exciting.
A minute after hanging up the phone we heard the sirens. By minute two there were six firefighters at our door. Two of them ran up the stairs - one holding some sort of reader thing and the other holding a long spear-like hook. Awesome!
We had moved you to the Jumperoo where you were diligently gnawing on a seahorse chew toy. The strange men in uniforms with silly hats and funny toys drew your attention. You stared at them. There was no bouncing, no noise, no crying. You just stared.
The firefighters were kind enough to take pictures with you. Of course, they were still doing their job - measuring the air for a dangerous poisonous gas. But, while they did it, why not take a picture with the cute baby?
After reassuring us that we weren't in danger and telling us to buy a new alarm, they left. You followed them out the door with your gaze as we thanked them for their help.
I'm sure we experienced the beginning of what will be a lifelong fascination with firefighters.
Your mom and I are grateful for the FDNY for making sure we're safe. We hope their night was full of easy assignments and cute babies.
Eternally yours,
Tu papa
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