I may have mentioned that my son is what could be described as a fire truck maniac. Each day when I get home from work, he meets me at the door. After a much-too-brief hug, he insists that I sit with him in front of the computer and look at pictures of fire trucks. He gets progressively more excited with each picture - "Look at dat one! Dat one has uh BIG LADDER own it!!"
When we take a ride anywhere, I can't even start the car without him yelling, "You go fine fy-twuck, daddy?". If you've been reading my posts, I describe one of these trips in detail in "Wednesday Night".
When it comes to making contact, however, a scenario I like to call a Fire Truck Encounter of the Third Kind, we have been so-far unsuccessful. He loves to look. He just sort of freezes up when it comes to touching. I was determined that this weekend would be the one.
We started out slowly. We went to get coffee. I went the back way to one of our local fire houses.
"You go fine fy-twuck, daddy?"
"Yeah, buddy! There's a fire truck right there!"
"He's inside?"
"Yeah, buddy, he's inside, but do you want to go see it?"
"Go see it."
We drove slowly by the front of the station. The giant garage doors were open. One of the firemen eyed us a little suspiciously. I really couldn't blame him, of course. We looked a bit odd. I couldn't think about it. I was on a mission.
We turned around and pulled in front of the station. I hurried to get the Boss out of the back. I put him on my shoulders, and we walked around. The doors were closing. Ugh. Thwarted again. We observed our quarry through the immaculately-cleaned windows.
"We go-go?" he eventually asked.
"Yeah, buddy. We go-go".
We started back to the car, and were almost there when one of the firefighters inside the station opened the front door.
"Did he want to see the fire truck?" We are very fortunate to have just about the best and nicest fire department I've ever seen.
"Sure. I guess so. You want to see the fire truck, buddy?"
"Go see fy-twuck." His response was half-hearted. This might not be the on
e after all.
We went inside and got the grand tour. As always. He was typically amazed, pointing out all the details of the polished red fire engine and ambulance.
"Do you want to sit on it, buddy, so I can take your picture?"
"GO-GO, DADDY! GO-GO!"
There was no point in arguing. The decision was made. We stayed a polite amount of time, were sure to thank the firefighter over and over for the tour, and left.
We had been in the car less than a minute when my companion says, "You take picture, daddy?"
"I wanted to, pal, but you didn't want me to. Maybe next time."
"Go see fy-twuck?"
This was starting to get ridiculous. I drove the six or seven minutes to our other fire station. The firefighters at this one are a bit more stand-offish. As luck would have it, the main fire engine was outside.
"Lookadat fy-twuck!"
"I see it, bud! You wanna go look at it?"
"No".
We sat there for several minutes. I finally broke.
"We're gonna go see it". No argument from the back seat.
We got out and approached in our normal formation - he was on my shoulders. We walked slowly around the red monster as if examining a living thing and not wanting to frighten it away. Finally I made my move. I took him off my shoulders and set him on the ground.
"Okay, buddy. You stand right here while I take your picture". Something had changed. He was either too wrapped up in describing every aspect of the fire engine to me or it was just time. He allowed me several good shots before he wanted to go.
It was a proud moment. You want your child to feel comfortable when he or she is with you. Comfortable enough to explore a bit - but not too much. It is a fine line. I want him to feel precisely free enough to roam free - four or five steps away from me. Yesterday was a great day. Maybe next weekend we'll actually harpoon our own personal white whale and...dare I suggest it?...sit on a fy-twuck.
When we take a ride anywhere, I can't even start the car without him yelling, "You go fine fy-twuck, daddy?". If you've been reading my posts, I describe one of these trips in detail in "Wednesday Night".
When it comes to making contact, however, a scenario I like to call a Fire Truck Encounter of the Third Kind, we have been so-far unsuccessful. He loves to look. He just sort of freezes up when it comes to touching. I was determined that this weekend would be the one.
We started out slowly. We went to get coffee. I went the back way to one of our local fire houses.
"You go fine fy-twuck, daddy?"
"Yeah, buddy! There's a fire truck right there!"
"He's inside?"
"Yeah, buddy, he's inside, but do you want to go see it?"
"Go see it."
We drove slowly by the front of the station. The giant garage doors were open. One of the firemen eyed us a little suspiciously. I really couldn't blame him, of course. We looked a bit odd. I couldn't think about it. I was on a mission.
We turned around and pulled in front of the station. I hurried to get the Boss out of the back. I put him on my shoulders, and we walked around. The doors were closing. Ugh. Thwarted again. We observed our quarry through the immaculately-cleaned windows.
"We go-go?" he eventually asked.
"Yeah, buddy. We go-go".
We started back to the car, and were almost there when one of the firefighters inside the station opened the front door.
"Did he want to see the fire truck?" We are very fortunate to have just about the best and nicest fire department I've ever seen.
"Sure. I guess so. You want to see the fire truck, buddy?"
"Go see fy-twuck." His response was half-hearted. This might not be the on
e after all.We went inside and got the grand tour. As always. He was typically amazed, pointing out all the details of the polished red fire engine and ambulance.
"Do you want to sit on it, buddy, so I can take your picture?"
"GO-GO, DADDY! GO-GO!"
There was no point in arguing. The decision was made. We stayed a polite amount of time, were sure to thank the firefighter over and over for the tour, and left.
We had been in the car less than a minute when my companion says, "You take picture, daddy?"
"I wanted to, pal, but you didn't want me to. Maybe next time."
"Go see fy-twuck?"
This was starting to get ridiculous. I drove the six or seven minutes to our other fire station. The firefighters at this one are a bit more stand-offish. As luck would have it, the main fire engine was outside.
"Lookadat fy-twuck!"
"I see it, bud! You wanna go look at it?"
"No".
We sat there for several minutes. I finally broke.
"We're gonna go see it". No argument from the back seat.
We got out and approached in our normal formation - he was on my shoulders. We walked slowly around the red monster as if examining a living thing and not wanting to frighten it away. Finally I made my move. I took him off my shoulders and set him on the ground.
"Okay, buddy. You stand right here while I take your picture". Something had changed. He was either too wrapped up in describing every aspect of the fire engine to me or it was just time. He allowed me several good shots before he wanted to go.
It was a proud moment. You want your child to feel comfortable when he or she is with you. Comfortable enough to explore a bit - but not too much. It is a fine line. I want him to feel precisely free enough to roam free - four or five steps away from me. Yesterday was a great day. Maybe next weekend we'll actually harpoon our own personal white whale and...dare I suggest it?...sit on a fy-twuck.
