Learning the Hard Way
I woke up this morning and started writing a new post. I had two lines written, before our fire-alarm went off. After running upstairs with Monkey in my arms, I saw that someone had just burned food in the broiler. Phew!
It was then that I decided to give Monkey his first lesson about fires.
We stood under the blaring fire alarm, as I explained what the sound meant. After fanning the thing, so it would stop beeping, I took Monkey into the room and explained what to do if the alarm ever went off again.
I told him how he needed to get outside as quickly as he could, and to stay outside. His eyes got big as I explained that he should never go and hide from a fire, because the fire would find him.
I stopped talking. We stared at each other. His eyes got teary.
And I realized that I was saying this to a 3-year-old. The same 3-year-old whom I had told that our house was a place that the monsters he insists are real, could never find him.
Way to be consistent.
As I thought of how to recover, he had already thought it through. "So I will run outside as fast as I can," he said, and a smile crept back to his face.
I exhaled, hoping that I didn't forever scar his mind with images of fire chasing him, and went on to make a game out of teaching him to stop, drop, and roll.
I'll probably wait until he's older to teach him about it again...or maybe I just need to learn to be tactful.