What Constitutes an Emergency?

No pictures on this one, just a story (and I am finally to a point where I can laugh and write about it.) We have this CD in our car full of annoying children's songs that us mothers seem to bring upon ourselves. Of the selection of thirty some odd songs, there is one in particular that is Gavin's favorite. I'll give you three reasons why: 1. it has firetruck sounds (which in and of itself is enough) 2. numbers (I'll bet you can guess by the title of this post which numbers they are) 3. and 3. it talks about car crashes, fires and all sorts of exciting things. Well, being the naive mother that I am, I encouraged the listening of this song- thoroughly enjoying the things my son was interested in.

And now for the story.
Setting: my sister's house in Spanish Fork. My sister and I are tie dying shirts and coordinating outfits for my brothers wedding the following day (not related to the tie dying, in case you were wondering). Nap time rolls around and I put the boys to sleep in separate rooms downstairs. Tristan immediately falls asleep and becomes oblivious to the rest of the story. Gavin, on the other hand is put to sleep in a room full of temptations (Alivia's room: full of little pretties- tea sets, plastic cakes and little animals.) The feminine side of Gavin comes out in full bloom and we begin to hear:

"Would you like some cake Rabbit?" (for those of you familiar with the Winnie the Pooh show, you might understand where that came from.)

Peaking in, there is Gavin feeding a piece of plastic cake to a small kitten figurine. Deciding it was just as well that he was occupied (and hoping he'd fall asleep eventually), we decided to let it be. Brianna (my sister) leaves the house to borrow a spray bottle and returns, minutes later with two Spanish Fork City policemen.

To make a long story short (er)- after a long interrogation from the policeman, we discover that Gavin had gotten hold of the little phone (literally looks like a toy phone) in Alivia's room and had dialed his favorite three numbers. 9-1-1. Thrilled, I am sure, to actually hear someone on the other end, Gavin gives off the following information: his name, what he is doing (I am sure) and something about his daddy being sick (Andrew was out of town, so I would guess that idea came from some prompting from the operator). Leaving the phone off the hook, he continues to play while the call is traced back to my sisters house. Thus, the police visit. Once the officers were assured my sister and I didn't have a man in the back room poisoned by our tie dye, or something to that extent, Gavin was questioned. Here are his answers exactly:

Question: "Did you call someone on the phone?" Gavin: "Yeah, I talked to the man."
Question: "What numbers did you push?" Gavin: "I pushed LOTS of numbers."
Question: "Did you push 9-1-1?" Gavin: "Yeah, I did push 9-1-1."
Question: "What did you tell the man?" Gavin: "I dunno. I talked to the paliceman!"
Question: "Did you tell them about your daddy?" Gavin: "Daddy's at work, on a work trip!"
Me: "We do not call 9-1-1 unless mommy or daddy tells you to." Gavin: "yeah, we DO NOT."

And there you have it. Our first (of, I wouldn't be surprised many now that he has discovered he can talk to a policeman) 9-1-1 experiences. After apologizing profusely, I hinted and out right asked the policeman to scare him out of doing it again, but to no avail. Gavin was put back to bed (this time falling asleep without protest), and we escorted the officers to the door.

To sum, we won't be listening to that song again any time soon! Any advice on preventing this in the future would be welcomed!