Explosive Gas

Written By: Bob

It was a typical, boring Wednesday night. By typical, I mean that Matt and I were playing trains. By boring, again I mean that we were playing trains. No offense to Thomas and his friends, but there’s only so many games of “Make Donald Say Hi to Percy” that one can tolerate. And we’ve been playing that game every day since October.

After putting Matt to bed, I decided the house needed a good Lysol spraying. Matt had been coughing like a three pack-a-day smoker for a few days, and my nose had been running like a faucet since the morning. Certain that our house was covered in germs, I proceeded to give everything a good spraying – TV remotes, doorknobs, computer keyboards, the whole works.

Upon completion, I settled down at the computer to check in with my lovely wife when I was rudely startled by an ear piercing 85 decibel beeping from our Carbon Monoxide/Explosive Gas Alarm. The alarm had gone off once before, with a low battery warning, so I went downstairs to check, figuring this was the case again. This time, however, the unit was flashing an ominous “GAS! GAS!” With visions of our house being blown to smithereens, with me and Matt in it, I quickly called 911 and then grabbed Matt out of bed, wrapped him in a sleeping bag, and went out to sit in the car and wait for the fire department to arrive.

At this point, I was worried that our house was seconds away from exploding. Matt, on the other hand, was having the time of his life, snuggling up with the sleeping bag on the back seat. As the ambulance pulled up our hill, lights flashing, it was like Christmas morning all over again for Matt. Two firemen arrived and checked the house, and let us know it was safe to come back inside.

As I talked downstairs with the two firemen, I could hear the front door open. Matt was attempting to head outside, in three inches of snow, to go get a closer look at the ambulance. One of the firemen then stayed upstairs with Matt, as I talked to the other one downstairs. I could hear Matt telling him, “Come to my room. Look, truck rug. Truck bed” while showing off his truck-themed room. “Do you have more fire trucks?” I heard the fireman ask Matt. At this point, I could hear the clatter of trucks being pulled out of the closet. Matt was getting a chance to play fire trucks with a fireman, and he was going to make the most of it by taking out every last fire truck he owns.

Before they left, Matt got a high five from each of them, and they flashed their lights and sirens as they drove away, Matt standing wide-eyed at the front door waving goodbye. Finally, Matt went back to bed and I turned to Google to solve the mystery of the false alarm. As the firemen suspected, the Lysol I had sprayed around the house to kill our germs had triggered the Explosive Gas sensor. After reading a number of Amazon reviews, it appears this is quite the common occurrence with any kind of household cleaner, aerosol spray, or perfume. False alarms have also been triggered by another kind of “explosive gas” emitted by humans, perhaps after a large meal of spicy food at a Mexican restaurant (dogs have been known to do the same, although I don’t think Mexican food is the cause in that case). I’m sure this has Laurie wondering how I never set off the explosive gas alarm before.

For me, the night could not have been worse. I stood outside in my bed shorts in 20-degree weather, waiting for my home to explode, and now my cold is even worse. For Matt, it may have been the greatest night of his life. His hacking cough has miraculously disappeared, he wants to go sleep in the car again, and he got to play fire trucks with a real live firefighter. For a little boy obsessed with all things trucks, it doesn’t get any better than that.

Happy New Year!

It has been busy around here lately. We rang in the New Year with a silly hat, Chinese food, noisemakers, and chocolate fondue.

Matthew is doing new things like getting out of his bed all by himself in the morning. I usually hear him open his bedroom shades, followed by the sound of his footsteps down the hallway to my room. In his own words:

"In the morning, I climb out of bed, open all the windows, find Mama, and play more trains."

Let It Snow

On Saturday night while two to three inches of snow all of the older neighborhood kids went sledding at nine o’ clock at night. The first snow fall of the season is always an exciting time!

At nine o’ clock the following morning, the  tops of the telephone, mailboxes, and tree branches are all coated with snow giving the streets a look that could grace the cover of a postcard.

 At first Matthew is afraid to go sledding down our backyard slope.  After a few rides with me, he takes a few more rides with Bob. Matthew asks us to go again and again. Not too long after, he is ready to sled on his own. He takes turn after turn, and instead of being startled, he laughs the couple of times that he wipes out. We spend all morning sledding until lunchtime. And what a fun morning it was!

Leaves & Sand

It’s November but we’re at a lake anyway. It’s warm enough for a picnic outdoors but cold enough to wear our coats. Leaving the warm spinach and cheese pastries, grapes, and sippy cup treat of chocolate milk behind, Matthew negotiates the rocky sand to get a closer look at the water.


“What is that?” he asks, pointing to rock.
“A rock,” I answer him.
“What is that?”
“A rock.”
“What is,” he pauses, searching for the right word, “on the rock?”
“It’s just the color gray,” I say with an air of impatience in my voice.
“Gway. This a gway rock,” Matthew tests the new word out on his tongue like ribbon candy.

The beach has an abandoned look about it, no buoys in the water to mark the swimming area or sailboats on the water. We spot a forgotten fishing lure, purple sand shovel, and child size water shoe tangled in the rocks and sand. We have the beach to pretty much to ourselves, except for a couple walking their dog in the distance.

Matthew drags a long stick behind him as we walk along the shoreline to another rocky patch. Bob and I settle down on a large rock and Matthew plops down close to the water and holds the stick in the water. “I’m fishing,” he explains to us.

 I’m thankful for a lot of things this Thanksgiving, especially for my imaginative boy and kind husband.

Cupcakes, Jellyfish, and Basketball (part 2)

“I’m ready!” Matthew announced, dressed in his Patriots jersey and sweatpants with a football print under a pocket. For day two of Bob’s birthday weekend we were going to the Patriots Hall of Fame and Providence College basketball game.

The museum exceeded my expectations. It was far more interactive than I imagined. I thought that it would be all glass enclosures and trivia facts, which there was a good amount of, but there was a lot to do. We attempted to reenact the infamous Vinatieri snow kick, listened to game calls from inside a helmet, tried on team uniforms, climbed onto the duck tours parade float, and felt what it was like to join in a huddle. The two highlights of the trip had to be Bob getting stuck inside of the padded jersey he tried on, and the room that played tapes of Super Bowl wins and sprayed confetti into the air.o.

Next on the agenda was a quick stop at the North Pole. Well okay, at a store nearby that had a winter wonderland already set up in their basement level complete with a Santa and Mrs. Claus. We stopped by in time to catch the tree lightning ceremony.

Matthew did not nap on our drive to Providence as we hoped that he would. We stayed for the first half of the basketball game before Matthew started to get sleepy.

  It was a long day, but also a very fun day.

Cupcakes, Jellyfish, and Basketball

Last week was Bob’s birthday and to celebrate Matthew and I baked him Cookie Monster cupcakes. I hid them under our bed in a container and left notes hidden around the house to lead him to it. My plan went off with just a couple of hitches, one being that Matthew kept telling him that I made yummy cupcakes, and two being that Bob didn’t actually see my first note on the garage door, that is until I directed him to it after he asked me where these cupcakes were that Matthew mentioned to him.

The following day we took the day off from work and Matt to the aquarium and children’s museum. There once was a time that our birthday weekends were spent together in a favorite hotel of ours, but it was years before we had Matthew or a mortgage. Still, we have fun together wherever we go.

“Ooohh, those are scary!” Matthew says and backs away from a tank of jellyfish. Moments later he is sticking his face close to a tank of sharks, turtles, and schools of fish swimming by. His fears are as unpredictable as the tides.

Next we stop at a tide pool tank with starfish, hermit crabs, and urchins to pick up.


As we were leaving, I asked what everyone’s favorite part of the aquarium was. Matthew replied, “We took an elevator.” Bob and I agreed that it was the new sea lion exhibit. The sea lion exhibit was built outside of the dimly lit aquarium, with walls of glass that overlook a harbor full of salty blue water and sailboats. “I want to give a hug?” Matthew asked while looking at a sea lion inches away from him behind a glass wall.

After lunch, we walked over to the children’s museum where we spent the rest of the afternoon exhibit hopping and doing a craft project together in the art room.

Playing Farm

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“Play farm?” Matthew asks me, as I change him from his octopus feetsie pajamas into his sport ball feetsie pajamas at his request. “Please?”

“Ok,” I agree, even though I think it is the most boring game on earth to play with him.




“Farm” – Game 1

“Help! Hurry, hurry!” Matthew coaches me to say. I hold onto a Little People girl and repeat my lines in a high voice. He drives a Tonka fire truck over to his toy farm and a fireman “rescues” the animals one by one.

“Farm” – Game 2

“Wait, come back!” Matthew calls to his toy school bus. I am in charge of loading the animals on and off a school bus. I must remember to say, “Here is your money” and mime handing money to the driver.

“Farm” – Game 3

The fireman falls off the ladder and has to be taken away in the ambulance. Matthew then takes out his toy doctor’s kit, gives him a pretend exam, and tells him he is all better. Rule of thumb: Game 1 may lead to game 3 but game 2 must be played alone.

These games are cute for the first forty three times.

For breakfast I make scrambled eggs and homemade biscuits and jam. Matthew loves to play in the kitchen, so while I cooked, I let him mix cinnamon, nutmeg, dry pasta noodles, and cups of water together in a plastic bowl for the fun of it.

“Yummy,” Matthew compliments after taking a bite off the plate that I prepared. It makes me so happy when he enjoys a meal, even scrambled eggs.

The next task of the morning was to move Pepper’s cage inside for the winter.

We made her a little nook of her own in the basement with decorated walls of Matt’s artwork at his suggestion.


“Mommy? Mama? Mommy?” Matthew calls while climbing back upstairs.

“Yes..?”

“Play Farm? Please?”