First Fear?

Oh, if only Charlie were enjoying Fire Safety week as much as I am. 

Yesterday they learned to stop, drop and roll if there is fire on their clothes, and now he's petrified that the fire is going to "get [him]".  He even had two accidents yesterday, and while I don't know that they're related, I have to wonder.  Then last night after prayers he asked Jason to protect him from the fire.

The crazy part is that in all my excitement about the fire trucks and the activities, I'd forgotten my own terror at 6 years old when we watched a Fire Safety movie at school.  In the movie a family's house catches on fire in the night and they all have to escape, using the rope ladders, etc. that they had conveniently installed earlier that day.  I can still picture the little blonde girl sitting terrified in her bed and clutching her mom (or dad...not sure) out in the street later as flames shoot from their house.

Even more vividly, I remember laying in my little twin bed in the downstairs bedroom on Long Street crying because I thought our house was going to catch on fire in the night -- specifically, I  thought that lightning would strike the vaulted ceiling in the living room.  I remember Mom coming in to reassure me but I think this fear lasted for quite some time, and I actually recall looking at the living room ceiling in the mornings to make sure there wasn't a jagged hole.

I definitely don't fault Charlie's daycare for introducing fire safety and all, but I guess I'm having a hard time accepting that it's time for him to discover that "bad" things can happen.  Up until now he's believed that a fire truck racing by with sirens blaring is on the way to rescue a kitty from  a tree, and I think the only reason he stays out of the street is to avoid a spanking.  This is most likely his first taste of legitimate fear, and while I know it's important developmentally, it's breaking my heart.