One smokin' hot fireman!

Call it luck. Call it coincidence. I call it Mother's Intuition.

Last night I was sogged out on the couch watching TV. I have to admit that once the silence has descended that only sleeping children can bring, the corner of the couch is usually my first - and last - stop before bed. It is here I pay the bills, write my blog, go through paperwork, and of course, eat ice cream.

But last night for no particular reason, I suddenly decided to get off my lazy butt and brush my teeth during a commercial. When upstairs I saw Tator's door was closed and the light still on. So I went in to turn it off. As I reached for the light I realized there was something red on top of the lamp. At first I couldn't identify what I was looking at or that anything was overly amiss, but when I reached for the item I figured out what I was looking at - and what was happening.

The red plastic fireman was slowly melting onto the hot bulb (we hadn't yet converted this lamp to the energy-saver ones). I turned off the lamp and pried the gooey, slightly smoking mess off the bulb.

As I looked at my peacefully sleeping little boy, covers thrown off and padded bottom up in air, the could-have-beens began whirling around my head and my heart started pounding. Why had I come upstairs early? The extra half hour I would normally have been downstairs with eyes glued to the box could have been enough time to turn the smoke to flame. And with his door closed to curb the constant trips downstairs... it's too much to contemplate.

Intuition. Can't explain it. Don't discount it!