The tiniest fireman

This morning, at the ungodly hour of 8 am, I went over to the car seat inspection place to have a fireman install the car seat.

Yep, we have a "car seat inspection place." It's actually a pretty kick-ass service. For free, an actual fireman will install your car seat. For FREE! My tax dollars at work.

At least I think he was an actual fireman. He was wearing the official Fire Service hat. He certainly talked like he was a fireman. You know the type - all technical when it isn't even necessary. Like on Cops.

I kind of dig firemen. Not in a sexy way. I just think it's neat that they fight fires and stuff. I also think it's neat that they will drop everything and come roaring down your street at 9 pm, right in front of all your neighbors, lights flashing and sirens blaring, flying over speed humps, just because you think you might smell gas in your house. Even if it's actually just cat pee.

Anyway, he was in fact the tiniest fireman I'd ever seen. He tried to make up for it by talking big. He lectured me for quite some time about making sure I don't have anything in the back seat that could fly around and "strike my child." "Those things aren't tested the way the seats are," he said.

In the end, I was really glad he was small, since it allowed him to crawl inside my Corolla and demonstrate how to lean over the back of the rear-facing seat and put your weight on it to hold it in place while you tighten the belt.

Yep, I'm glad he was small, even though I still can't see saving Kurt Russell. Or even carrying a hose.