Michael was doing a unit on community helpers last month at school. Of course, his favourite was the firefighters. The went to the fire station and his teacher told me he was always the first to volunteer to do everything. He's been singing his firetruck song (which goes "Firetruck. Firetruck. I want to ride in a firetruck." - that's the whole song) over and over and telling everyone to "Stop, drop and roll!"
Tonight he decided that we were both firefighters, and his "new bedroom" was the firestation and the firetruck was in the kitchen. Don't ask. So, I spent half the evening walking between the two rooms while Michael repeated the same thing over and over again. "Let's go to the firestation. Let's get in the firetruck." As I was about to keel over from boredom, he decided he was hungry, so we baked another dozen cookies. Yum, yum.
Until he went to bed, he referred to me solely as "Firefighter" and would not respond to his name. "I'm not Mikey! I'm a firefighter!"
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