Fire! Where?

It's 3:30 in the morning. On our very quiet and very dark street, my home is lit up like the Superbowl is being played within it's tiny frame. And is that? Could it be? Yes it is. Another fire truck come to cast light on the scene.  The kids, dogs, and I huddle in the van watching the scene unfold as Boy takes the opportunity to remind me, yet again, that he would like a snack. 

And while a small part of me does have to admit that watching firemen line the entire block with their vehicles and pour into your home is a bit like watching a movie, most of me is focused on a churning stomach, the thought that the fire must have started in the very messy garage, and the fact that my kids are going to be homeless with all of our shoes burnt-up.

Losing it slightly at this point, I say, "You can't have a snack. They are burning up in our house!" Hmm, maybe not one of my brightest moves...

How did we end-up in this predicament?

It all started with an annoying sound you half-hear in your sleep and a nervous dog. Having a newborn at the time (Youngest was about 3 months old) I was half-delirious with sleep withdrawl. Upon waking I couldn't place the sound and the dog was acting very strange, whining and unsettled. I woke Hubby to ask what that noise was. 

We got out of bed to investigate and as we were crossing the house Teen (who was really more of a Kid) crawls at super-speed from her room hollering "It's the FIRE ALARM. It's the FIRE ALARM" on a constant loop. And, hey, she was right. Quick-thinking completely dazed and sleep addled me told her to meet me at the mailbox and thank you fire safety month, she crawled right out the front door. Hubby and I rushed into Boy's room to remove him and Youngest from the danger-zone. Still very much operating on instinct, imagine my surprise to find Youngest's crib empty! Uh, where did she go?  Surely she didn't just leave - she can't even roll over!

Light dawned through my confusion. I remembered I brought her into my bed, and rushed back there.  Grabbing the baby and the dogs I went out to meet the others at the mailbox. I piled everyone into the van, because they were all in their various states of sleep undress and standing in the middle of the yard. Hubby and I headed back in to grab the phone, well he did anyway. Truth be told I went back for a can of Diet Coke and my cigarettes...Hey it was stressful. 

We didn't see any fire. But the entire house was filled with this sweet-smelling smoke. Hubby explained this to 911, as I grabbed my drink. We assumed the fire must be smoldering in the attic. And I was fretting because I knew the firemen would have no access to said attic because the garage was such a mess! Ah, the dumb@#% things I worry about.

In record time the trucks arrived. I think it was every truck in Sunnyville. All lined up on my blcok. And while I do truly appreciate their prompt attention, it is Sunnyville. Did they really think a ladder truck would be necessary? The house is only one floor!

So here we were. Sitting in the driveway watching men and lights travel through the house. Hubby talking with the fire chief and Boy prattling on about his need for sustenance...Maybe my previously mentioned blurt about the snacks burning up could be forgiven.

After touring my home with heat-finding goggles, the firemen reached the conclusion that there was freon pouring into the house from a faulty whatchamacallit in the air conditioner. Because this can be toxic, they brought in HUGE fans and blew the smoke out before allowing us to regain occupancy. Upon reentering the house, I did get Boy his snack and we all decided to watch Pirates of the Caribbean since we were up anyway.