On Tuesday evening I told John David we were going to eat dinner at Chickfila. He said, "See Henry?! See Henry?" (We meet my friend Valentina there with her 3 year old son Henry for lunch practically once a week while we're out running errands.) But I had to tell him, "No Henry today. We're going to see a fire truck."
He smiled from ear to ear and made a bee line to the car. Usually he wants to dilly dally in the backyard and I have to wrestle him into the car. But not after hearing he was about to see a real live fire truck! During the drive there he kept repeating, "Fire truck! Chickfila!"
So once we got there a balloon lady came around and made him an Elmo balloon. He was thrilled and had fun watching her make it. But he wanted to know where the fire truck was and kept asking me. Meanwhile, Chickfila had set up a free ice cream sundae bar for the kids, so we went through the line and he wanted a little bit of everything on his---crushed oreos, gummy bears, m & m ' s, and a cherry. He was eating it enthusiastically until a lady came around and said, "Just wanted to let you know that the fire trucks are here and parked out back, so you can go check them out whenever you're ready."
John David immediately threw his ice cream (half eaten) onto the tray and said, "Ready!! Ready Mommy!!! Trash!!!!"
So we loaded up and threw our trash away and headed outside. He laughed the entire way across the parking lot. Once we got there a firefighter offered John David the driver's seat. I lifted him up there (pretty much over my head) and he started whimpering. "Down Mommy. Down." So I pulled him down and that was pretty much IT. The seat was high up and I guess it scared him because he wanted nothing to do with the rest of it. The firefighters had opened the side panels up on the trucks and you could see all of their tools and equipment. I tried to interest him in all of this, but he wasn't having it. He wanted me to carry him (which I can't because my incision is still sore) so after I peeled him off of me, he clung to my leg, and kept saying, "Go home. Go home."
I did convince him to let the firefighter take a picture of us sitting on the front of the truck. And you know John David---he always smiles when he sees a camera, regardless of how he is really feeling. So he smiled big, but trust me, this was hardly a fair representation of how he felt at the moment.
He fell asleep as soon as we got into our car (at 7pm). I tried to wake him up when we got home but he was exhausted after failing to take a nap earlier in the day. He slept until 4:45 am!! Yesterday when he came downstairs he saw his Elmo balloon and remembered our trip to Chickfila. He said in the most pitiful, regretful voice, "Fire truck. Scared." And he hung his head every time he said it. My heart broke every time he muttered it yesterday!!!
Last night when Daddy came home from work John David finally got to tell him about the fire truck (they never saw each other the night before). He said, "Fire truck. Open it. Chickfila. Scared."