They Call Me The Fireman...

So for the last few months, Drew has been on a total kick for all things "fireman." He lines up his Hotwheels emergency vehicles... hides in the closet with the door shut handling emergency after emergency. He prefers to read Clifford at night because Clifford becomes an honorary fire dog. He has a fire truck coat, hat and hose. He has a firetruck sleeping bag... this kid even has two DVDs called "Lots and Lots of Firetrucks". His birthday was the 13th... he's got the songs all memorized now.

So, he's watching DVD 2 this morning and turns and says to me he needs a "breather" because when there's a fire he can't breathe. "I need to go to toy store get breather." I, being the voice of reason, of course, say, "Drew, you don't need a breather" those are for big men."

Huge mistake, Mom.

Meltdown starts... true crocodile tears... whining, crying, throwing a full on FIT (which really isn't par for the course with this one) So trying to think of ANY recourse I said, "Drew the toy store isn’t even OPEN yet!"

Our exchange continues...

"when does it open"

"40 minutes"

"okay" sniffle sniffle...

And off he runs to the bedroom... ***I*** am assuming to put out fires.

Back he runs.

"what are you doing"

"watching clock"

"what for"

"40 minutes"

OMG this kid is goign to be the death of me??? GRRR…

And you know, far be it from me to begrudge this child his one true addiction right now... And frankly, I had absolutely nothing else on my agenda for once for the day, so off we went to the Army Navy Store… they didn’t have one…they recommended another store called Cheaper Than Dirt about 15 minutes down the highway…so off we went.

And now… THIS is what I have at home