Make sure your kids understand fire drills.

I tried to prepare for a fire once when I was about six years old. My mom had been drilling me on escape plans that week in case a fire were to erupt. When the neighbor’s house across from ours burnt down, it really freaked her out. I decided that I needed a way to get all of my toys out of the house in case there was a fire.

I had a strawberry shaped toy box, so I thought it would be a good idea to cram all of my toys inside of it that I would want to escape from the fire with. After stuffing as many in it as I could I realized not all of them would fit. This was a problem. I looked around to try to figure out the best way to solve this problem. There was a window in my room.  I would pack the rest of the toys in a garbage bag and hurl it out the window.

I struggled with that garbage bag. If you have ever seen a six-year-old attempt heavy lifting I’m sure you’ve laughed for a long time. I was that six-year-old. I recruited the help of my neighbor who was two years older. He and I were able to hoist it to the ledge of my window, and he even helped me remove the screen! We had an odd conversation while we were moving the bag.

Delta: Why are we doing this?
Me: doing what?
Delta: Moving this bag
Me: Oh. to prepare for fires.
Delta: a fire is coming?
Me: I dunno, maybe. I have to make sure everything is okay if it does come.
Delta: Should I do that?
Me: Probably. You should probably make sure your puppy is okay too.
Delta: I will then. After I’m done helping you will you help me?
Me: uh-huh

I really don’t remember what we did with his puppy, I just remember his parents being very displeased with us.

Anyways, with my garbage bag on the window ledge and my toy box filled to the brim, I decided now was a good time to do a drill. I moved the toy box to the very edge of the top step then ran back into my room
“FIRRREEE DRIILLLLL” I yelled as I shoved my bag of toys out the window. I heard a crash and looked outside. “Success.” I muttered to myself when I saw it landed on the picnic table

I quickly ran to the top of the stairs and jumped on top of the toy box. I intended to ride on it to the bottom of the stairs. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. Physics meant nothing to me at the time, so this seemed like an excellent idea. I tried to push myself forward, but the toy box was too heavy to go anywhere. My mother ran in from the other room to see what was going on after she had heard the crash.

Me: Fire drill, Mommy
And with that, I jerked the toy box forward and started my collision with the ground. My mom watched in horror at what she thought was the instance in which I died/became quadriplegic.

I’m not entirely sure how, but I ended up falling backwards down the steps instead of forwards. It may have been my body’s reaction to my possible death as I tumbled face first down the steps, so I might have threw myself backwards before the actual collision. I don’t remember. I was blacked out the entire time.

I must not have been unconscious for too long, because I woke up on the couch to my mom hectically speaking on the telephone. “Mommy….” I muttered. She came right away and started her exasperated speaking.

Mom: Are you okay? Where does it hurt? What the hell did you think you were doing?
Me: Just my head and back hurts…I was just trying to get away from the fire if it came
Mom: What fire?
Me: The fire and I had to save my toys because then they would be gone and I have to help Delta save his too I was trying to help because what about his puppy?
Mom: That’s okay. We’re going to take you to the hospital. They’re going to make sure you don’t have any head damage
Me: Mommy, I am really tired.
Mom: I’m sorry, but you can’t sleep.
Me: Oh.

That was my second trip to the Emergency Room. I ended up with only a bump on the head and a slight concussion. It amazes me how many times I’ve received trauma to the skull and gotten away fine.Though most people would say otherwise.


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