Last year during some weird windstorm (yeah, we live near Chicago...go figure!), the top thingy on our chimney (love my technical terms?) blew off. You know, the top thingy that makes sure that winged creatures don't build nests in your chimney?
Well, since we were missing a top thingy, we didn't use our fireplace at all last winter. This year (after the bird family had moved out), we had the chimney swept (by a man who, disappointingly, bore NO resemblance at all to Dick Van Dyke), and the top thingy replaced.
Even though he looked at me like I had four heads when I asked if he danced and sang, he did the job efficiently, and soon our chimney was ready to serve more than a decorative purpose.
We held the inaugural fire this weekend and I'm pretty sure that we'll be doing a lot of burning throughout the winter. Sweet Son #1 was so excited that he convinced Diva Papa to pick up some marshmallows and we roasted them. The Manimal enjoyed more than his share of the sweet stickiness (both roasted and not), but was a bit disturbed by the fire that he couldn't blow out.
You see, he's at that "routine" age. The boy who loves to create chaos for all of us, is EXTREMELY bothered by things like burning candles, open doors, etc. He blows them out, closes them, anything to restore the order he expects.
Which is kind of ironic from our perspective.
At any rate, it took a little time to convince him that he didn't need to (and really shouldn't try to) blow out the fire.
Now if only I could convince him to apply a little of that routine to picking up toys and the like.