Not Just Another Mother Blogger!: Just Another Tricky Day

Two of my coworkers* and I are eating lunch when the fire alarm goes off. At first we thought it was a short, for the reason listed above. Training won out, however, and we exited down the stairs, like good little citizens, and head to the parking lot with all the other people in the building.

And we wait to see who shows up.

A brief summary of my general workspace environment: Everyone in my office is married. All the women in my office have at least one child. All the women in my office are over thirty. We don't get out much. We're often too tired, and we often have way too much to do. We don't usually get time to sit around. This unexpected downtime was a chance for us to play a little. We were just standing around, after all. Yep. Just a bunch of tired, overworked mothers, standing around. Unsupervised.

(Loitering tends to make one feel all delinquent, have you noticed.? No wonder teenagers love it so!)

"I guess that we should move to the front of the building," one of us said(okay, that was me), as the fire truck pulled up. "We can at least check out the hot firemen who show up, since we're out here."
A collective sigh from the group, which included the women from the business office, too. They like firemen too, apparently.

"Why isn't there a calendar--the Hot Firemen of New Braunfels?" Someone asked. "Because that would totally sell out!"

The three of us pondered that possibility in silence as we walked toward the side of the building, where we had an unimpeded view of the fire truck. Then we just stared.

"I like to see the firemen carrying the big hose," Coworker #1 sighed. The three of us nodded dreamily.

"You know," I said. "You have to have a lot of stamina to carry that big of a hose."

We all shared a laugh, and continued our vigil.

We did not see any big hoses, but that did not really matter. We just watched the firemen. We were in our groove.

Then one of the pretty firemen approached to speak to our boss, (because all the other bosses in the building were probably still out eating lunch.).

"Oooh...He has a tattoo!" Coworker #2 exclaimed. "And bulging arm muscles!"

Another collective sigh from us, little oohs and soft aahs.

For me, there was maybe a little wistfulness for days gone by, when the smile from a nice looking young man was gold, to be treasured on those days when the fat pants are required.

Suddenly our ~~Den Mother~~ secretary was in front of us, handing us some paper napkins.

"I'm the drool patrol," she said, "Wipe off your chins, ladies!"

We laughed for a bit, and then each of us texted our husbands to share the story while we made out way into the building. (There was no fire, just smoldering insulation from an ancient heating coil)

*My coworkers bribed me with cupcakes to preserve their anonymity. What can I say? I'm a sucker for a good cupcake!