My poor baby. I tell her all the time, when we see pictures of fire in books, or on the very rare occasion when there is a lit candle, that fire is hot, and dangerous, and we don’t ever touch it. This is a good message to impress upon a very curious toddler, I think.
Except.
When you go to a hibachi restaurant, you know, where they cook on the table right in front of you, they create fire. It’s not as though I’ve never been to this type of restaurant before. In fact, Carrie was there just last January, and it didn’t seem to faze her at all.
Tonight. Oh, I feel so bad. Those first flames shot up and she started sobbing uncontrollably that she needed a napkin (not sure what she thought that would do) and clung to me with all her strength. Sammy (we were out with the Lisa clan) had a similar reaction. (Though I don’t think he was asking for a napkin!)
I think it will be another year or two before we try to bring the kids there again! I feel like such an awful Mommy tonight. At least she enjoyed the food once the cooking was finished.