A doozy of a day, from serious to silly

I awoke shortly before 3:30 a.m. to sound of sirens outside. They were close. I got up to investigate. Will could not be stirred. (Which one of us is the journalist here, huh?) I donned my sneaks (as is my habit preceding adventures), shrugged on Will’s trench coat, and tiptoed outside. What a ruckus! So much for stealth. There were at least a half-dozen fire companies up the street, aiming their hoses at a house on the corner, billowing smoke so thick I had to raise Will’s coat collar to cover my mouth so I could breathe comfortably.

It was a sad scene, though not fraught with fatalities. The most recent occupants had moved out several months ago because the house was deemed unsafe by local authorities. I am sure neither the owners, nor the code enforcement officials, had any idea how unsafe (assuming the fire started spontaneously). I feel for those folks. Even though their house had “issues”—and, well, they themselves also seemed to have issues (but who of us doesn’t?)—it was their home, I know they were making efforts to move back in, and now they can’t. After 3-4 hours of steady dousing, the fire finally gave way, leaving a charred shell of their former dwelling place.

May God be with them, comfort them, and give them hope, especially as the season of “cheer” commences…..

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Amazingly, the kids slept through the commotion. They didn’t wake up until around 7:30, when they went about their routine preparations as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened so nearby. They showered, they dressed, and they poured themselves bowls of General Mills cereal before plopping in front of the TV to watch PBS Kids. A Curious George promo aired, a rollicking “Fun, Fun, Fun” campy tune that left my young peanut gallery arguing between munches:

Vi, age 10: “Man, that was corny!”

Ben, age 5 ½: “No, it wasn’t—it was cheesy.”

Vi: “No, it was corny.”

Ben: “It was cheesy!”

Vi: “Ben, you don’t even know what cheesy means.”

Ben: “Yes, I do!”

Vi: “Believe me, there’s a difference between ‘corny’ and ‘cheesy.’ You’re just too young to understand.”

(‘Fun, fun, fun!’ My children can fight about anything.)

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In addition to the constant whir of firetrucks and other emergency vehicles managing the situation outside on our block, the day was punctuated by Buzz Lightyear laser blasts, emitting intermittently from the Patriotic Buzz (sporting a red-white-and-blue-striped space suit) recently rediscovered in the attic. Buzz, who currently occupies a spot on our dining room window seat, obviously needs new batteries, but I had a few other things going on, so I told him to “Buzz off.”

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Among the many demands of this Monday (my day off from work, although it’s debatable which place I feel more relaxed): Reading to Pearl, who has developed a voracious appetite for books. I am glad for this fact, except when she insists on instant reading sessions, regardless of my current activity. (I shall refrain from going into details, but there are just some times when I can’t conveniently drop everything and read Little Bear.) Today, however, I read several books to Pearl, including Little Bear, Amelia Bedelia, and Green Eggs and Ham. Tell me this: Have you ever noticed the furry antagonist’s “butt crack,” as plainly portrayed on page 17 of Dr. Seuss’ classic children’s tale? Pearl astutely observed it aloud to me.

“…something new every day.”