Our rural fire department holds an ice cream and pie social every August. This year it fell on my dad's birthday.
All the girls' cousins and friends descended on our little village center. (Along with the unexpected visit from a bona fide Harley Davidson, er, group. They moved right along when they realized there was no beer garden.) The children (and even a lot of the adults) rode the fire trucks through the countryside, scaring dozens of sheep with the siren. They were so impressed with the headsets inside the cab that one neighbor boy asked whether he could trade his junior firefighter sticker for a headset.
They emptied the tanker trucks on the church lawn and each other. That's Madeleine and Zoe with Headstrong getting caught in the crossfire.
They even rode the bucket truck. I can't breathe and look at that at the same time.
But isn't that cute?
And where would we find my dad during the festivities? In our backyard, reading. Pushing Laura on the swingset. Enjoying the shade while the kids conquered all the fire equipment.