New Career Path

Well, well... we're moving on from pirates, back to firefighting! It's comforting to know Kiefer isn't aspiring to be a pirate when he grows up. He's never actually said that, but he does often ask whether or not "pirates are real". If you follow the life and times of little man K, you are aware of the fact that pirates have been a running interest for several months. Before that, elephants, before that... DIREDITERS.

Oh, how our interests are so easily re-loved and re-lived.

Last week, his school had firefighters visit. When I picked Kiefer up that night, he did not stop talking from the moment I arrived to the moment we walked through our door. Mile a minute update on all the fire safety he had learned that day, details about firefighters, fire engines, etc. I got a little suspicious at his "story" that all of the kids in his school had driven in a big car to the fire station to get on a fire truck. (I don't think Miss Dana has a car big enough for approximately 80 kids, all who require carseats.) Aside from that detail, the rest of his recount seemed incredibly legit and he was excited!

As soon as we were home he bee-lined it to his closet to retrieve his firefighter outfit and accessories. Then continued with the following fire safety information:

Late For Cake

The other night after his bath, Kiefer wanted to "get dressed up" for a pajama party. Despite my typical attempt to go from bath to pjs to bed in a timely manner, Kiefer was determined to continue playing and have a "pajama party". At bedtime. My guess, this was a continuation of the storyline responsible for the imaginary cakes he had been baking in the bathtub that night.

Kiefer knows there are necklaces and bracelets within reach in my closet, so he said "Let's get dressed up for the dance party, Mom!" While I was getting my pjs on for the pajama party, Kiefer was headed into my closet to accessorize for a "dance" party.

"Mom, where's your watch?!"

Well, I just took it off because I'm putting on my pjs for bedtime.

"I need it. How will we know what time we're supposed to eat our cake?!"


In lieu of forking over my watch, I directed Kiefer to a drawer containing some old ones he could play with. "I want that one. And that one. And that one."

"I gotta see what time it is... Oh. My. Good. Ness. It's 6:30! We don't want to be late to eat our cake, Mom!"