Fireman

Last week, we attended a Childhood Cancer event at Elijah and Luca’s school. There were a lot of cookies to smear on your face and pizza to only eat the cheese off of. The event culminated in 20 or so brave people from the community shaving their heads in honor of all the brave kids who are fighting the disease.

This was no trim. This was a Telly Savalas, King of Siam cut. There were moms who were leaving feet of hair on the floor.

Did I do it? Hmm. Let me reach deep into my bag of excuses until I find one. Oh here’s one: I was worried about the deep scabs in my head from my constant itching to get rid of phantom lice. And I am a vain, vain man.

Anyhoo, at one point several members of the Evanston Fire Department came on stage to get shorn. And a few of their buddies sat in the audience to shout ridicules. They were sitting right behind us.

If George Lucas and Jeff Tweedy and Peter Jackson were sitting behind me, I don’t think I would have been half as excited as Luca was in the presence of real, live firemen.

Diana tried to get Luca to say hello to the Chief at one point, but he couldn’t bring himself to look anywhere but his feet. I think he was afraid he’d turn into a pillar of salt if he gazed upon the beauty of a man in a blue uniform and sensible shoes.

On our way out we chatted up another Fireman, who was just a little too good looking to be chatting with my wife. But I let him flirt with Diana because, well, he was bigger than me.

At one point he said, “Oh hey. The truck is right around the corner. Why don’t I park it out front and let the guys play in it?”

I believe the term I am looking for when describing Luca is “gobsmacked.” While he crawled over the life saving equipment I began to wonder if he was actually enjoying himself because his expression was so serious.

But then I realized he was concentrating on remembering ever second. “Must remember how weight of fire hat feels on head. Must remember button that makes lights go on…”

When the boys were thoroughly spent, I walked over to the Fireman and attempted to look like a man in my perfectly messed up hair and designer sneakers.

“Uh, hey. Thanks a lot man. It really meant a lot to these guys. Football. Shotguns. Circular saw.”

The guy crushed my tiny hand in his and said, “My pleasure. Let’s hope I don’t have to see you again under the wrong circumstances.”

We all laughed. I looked out of the corner of my eye to make sure Diana wasn’t laughing too much.

p.s. A retraction. In the last post, when Diana said to Eli, “You smell like a pee pee factory,” I said Eli’s response was, “You smell like a baby factory.”

In fact, he said, “You smell like a bb (bad breath) factory.”

Diana wanted that reflected in the blog.