Drama on Dean Street.

The other night, as Cate and I sat on the couch watching The Daily Show in our underwear* (what was the Daily Show doing in our underwear?)** we heard a commotion outside. First one siren, then another, then another. I peered out the window to see FIVE fire engines in front of our house. The street was full of cops, firemen and concerned neighbors all pointing and looking up at me. In the window. In my underwear (see below astrix once more).

My first thought was, “Shit, what did I do?” My second thought was, “Maybe
I should put on more clothing.” My third thought was, “Damn, I’m missing the Daily Show.” But before I could react to any of these thoughts, two firemen appeared at eye-level on a cherry-picker, heading up towards the roof. Then our doorbell sounded.

A young fireman needed access to our roof – someone had reported a burning odor coming from the top of our house. To get to the roof, one must enter Cate’s closet, climb up a rickety ladder and wiggle through a small hatch. The fireman couldn’t fit through the hatch with his giant reflective jacket, his oxygen tank, his gas mask, his axe, his strange metal pole and his fire hat.

“I guess you’ll have to take some of that stuff off,” I suggested. That’s when the sexy music queued, the lighting dimmed, and the three of us ignited a few flames of our own, if you know what I mean.

I’m just kidding. He took off some of his outer equipment, squeezed his way on to the roof and returned 50 seconds later announcing that it was a false alarm. He then returned to one of the many fire trucks lining our block, but not before I snapped a few pics. After all, it’s not everyday that we have firemen in Cate’s closet.



Here are the pics. Unfortunately, his reflective jacket was a little too reflective.



These are the firemen outside my window, although it's hard to see:



If you’re wondering where Claire was through this excitement. She was sleeping. Through all of it. Oh, if we could all sleep as soundly as Claire.

* Underwear is a bit of an exaggeration. We were wearing boxers and tanktops – our summer pajamas, if you will.

** Oh, if only… The day Jon Stewart shows up in my underwear (summer pajamas) will be a marvelous day indeed. On many, many levels.