The night in which I almost have a heart attack.

Yesterday evening, while my 12 yr old was at a church activity, we loaded up the rest of the boys in our gas guzzling HOV and headed to the local membership club where we could buy packages of food large enough that, if we were lucky, just might last a week or more at our house. We soon realized that after hiking what felt like 2 miles of rows of mass packaged goods, that we weren't going to make it out of the store before our 12 yr old boy returned home from his activity. We called him up to let him know we'd be home in 20-30 minutes depending on how many other large families, daycares or small nations at the warehouse club were in line at the checkout.

After maxing out our cargo area with giant bags of apples, cases of diapers, a box of laundry detergent (that I just may need a forklift to get up the stairs of our house), 4 loaves of bread, 4 cases of drinks for lunchs and enough lunch meat and cheese to turn your stomach imagining the mile long sandwich we could make out of it...we FINALLY headed home.

As we pulled into our neighborhood and rounded the corner down near our house we were greeted by red lights, lots of red lights! As our SUV roared around the corner, we saw the red flashing lights were down by our house. Attached to those red lights were 4 fire trucks and an ambulance. Spotlights had been set up and fireman in their full gear were out...IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE!!! "That's by our house!" I shouted at Todd. He said, "I know, not good!" I tried to jump out of the car, but kept panicking and hitting the lock button instead of the unlock button on the door. The vehicle had trapped me in long enough for me to notice the trucks weren't in front of our house rescuing our 12 yr old, but across the street. Calm down, breath, relax...Kirsten! It wasn't our son. They were at the house across the street that is still under construction. Uh oh! The house being built, you know...the one where the kids like to slide down the giant dirt pile and sneak in the house and play in the basement and holler to hear their echo!? Yes, that house! I looked for flames? No flames. Good,it's not a fire. Panic strikes me again. Whose child is it? It has to be a child! It's dark outside and the construction workers have all gone home. My mind goes there. It couldn't be my son could it? He wouldn't leave the house to play outside would he? He knows it's against the rules if we aren't home. He's a good obedient child. Relax, I tell myself it's not him.

WHO IS IT!?!? My mind is racing. I try to get out of the car one more time. This time I hit the button in the other direction, freeing myself from the prison that trapped me in and held me back from discovering the horror just feet from our house! Waddling down the street to the nearest emergency vehicle, I find a man. I don't know who he is and I don't care. He's the first person I see and ask about the scene. I try to pretend I'm calm, but I'm practically shaking. I ask, "What happened?" Bracing myself for the answer, he calmly replies..."It's a fire drill." "Just a drill? That's all? I live across the street and my 12 yr old is home by himself and I was very scared there for a minute". "Yes, ma'am, it's just a drill". By now I had noticed the fire department ensignia on his clothing. He would know this is the truth. I trust him that this is the case. I'm 2 doors away from our home, they had let my husband through at this point.

I head back to the house, and as he's getting out of the car I share the news. His face relaxes. I go inside to check on our son. He's putting his trombone away. "Jordan!" I say, "Did you see what's going on outside?". "Huh?" he replies. "There are 4 firetrucks in front of our house". "Oh, really?" he casually replies. "Oh boy! You didn't notice?". We all go outside and watch the drill together. I sit on the front steps of the house. Colby is making a fire truck siren noise. Whhooo, whoooo! He giggles and croons over and over again. Ethan is on his scooter circling the driveway watching the fireman climb the roof of the house. We sit and watch and I think about what could have happened. I'm glad no one is hurt. I think of the family building the house, and wonder if anyone called them in a panic. I grab my camera to document their "house fire".

Last night, I held my boys a little tighter before they went to bed. Grateful the incident was just a drill. I wonder why we weren't told about the drill. That's a question for the fire department that will have to be asked.