Apparently I have a thing for firefighters. It doesn’t have anything to do with the uniform. Really. Although that certainly doesn’t hurt. Hello Backdraft anyone? Though The Ex was not a firefighter when we met and dated, he joined the department after we got engaged. It turns out that Mystic was a firefighter too. Of course, I didn’t know that when we first met a few months ago, but judging by our time together so far, it seems his background could come in handy. Figuratively, of course.
We (and by we, I mean I) like to call it the O’Malley Trial by Fire. You know, like the initiation process when you date me. It’s like freshmen hazing rituals. Only way more fun. At least that’s what I tell him. In the short time since we started dating, he has dealt with the after affects of the Great Power Outage of ’11. You know, when a surge went through the house and torched my computer, printer, fax, house phones, microwave, tv, a portion of the hot water heater and goodness knows what else in its wake. He actually started hanging out with me just in time to deal with the aftermath. Like when I got all new stuff and had to figure it all out. I don’t do manuals. Or technology. Thank goodness he does.
And then there was the ankle sprain. My left ankle is still a good bit bigger than the size of my right. And I’m still hobbling around on it.
And a cat missing for two days.
And my trip to Seattle.
And oh yes, there was this water incident the week before last. As I tried to run through all the people who I thought could help me at the time, when two buckets of water was steadily pouring through my living room ceiling, and who might be home, and who were boys, Mystic was the second person I called. I tried to hold the phone to my ear, as I was holding the buckets, attempting to catch the water and keep it from going into the tv on the way down.
” Are you ok? “
No, are you nearby?
“No, what’s the matter?”
Ok, gotta go. I didn’t mean to hang up on him, but the water that was pouring down my head slipped the phone from my grasp. There’s only so much multi-tasking a girl can do. He was there within half an hour. Just slightly behind The Neighbor Wife who had the misfortune of calling me during the whole event. Both were total troopers. Who were repaid with spaghetti and garlic bread. That’s how I roll.
There was, ahem, another minor incident two weeks ago that I proudly handled myself. Well, ok, it might have involved the boys in blue, but I didn’t call anyone else for help. Swear.
Later that week when I told Mystic that I thought it had been a bit of an action-packed few months, he asked how he was doing.
“Well, you haven’t run from the burning building yet, so I think that’s good.”
“Oh I see. I’m on PROBATION?”
He wisely didn’t answer.
“I’d like to think I’m bringing happy chaos to the table. I’m just trying to keep things interesting.”
You’re doing an excellent job. Maybe I should try harder from my side?
“Try harder for what?”
To keep things interesting too.
I then politely explained that perhaps he could just balance out my crazy and not bring his own. You know, ying to my yang or something. Thank God he was ok with that.
Speaking of fire… nothing like summertime and camp fires to make me think of s’mores. How ya like that segueway?…