Fireman

As anyone who has spend any time with him at all knows, J.P. loves firemen.  In fact, he loves everything about firemen - fire stations, fire trucks, hoses, etc.  He loves reading books about fireman (he has several) and he loves playing with fire trucks (again, he has several).  Most of all, he loves going to fire stations.

Saturday, Jude, J.P. and I went to a friend's house for her twin daughters' 3rd birthday.  Our friend lives, literally, across the street from a fire station (Engine No. 8/Ladder No. 27).  After lunch, the fireman hosted the children at the party (and parents) at the fire station.  The firemen were so gracious and J.P. was, simply, in heaven.

The firemen extended the ladder on the ladder truck, which actually was pretty cool.  I had no idea how high up in the air the ladder could be extended.  They rotated the ladder around, after which a fireman climbed all the way to the top.  The children were tranfixed and just stared, wide-eyed.

Eventually, J.P. wandered back into the garage, where Engine No. 8 sat with its doors open.  With encouragement from Steve - one of the firemen on hand - J.P. climbed up into the fire truck.  His mouth fell open as he gazed in wonder at all of the equipment in the fire truck.  Over and over, he said, "Wow!  This is awesome!"  He tried on a hat and, much to our amusement, tried on a mask, as well.  By the time we finally got him out of the fire truck, everyone else had walked back across the street to the open presents.  J.P. would have stayed there all day, if we had let him.