who demands firetrucks?

Grady woke up with vinegar coursing through his veins today. Every minute detail of the world set him of into a tumultuous tantrum. I couldn't even get a sip of my java before more tantrums erupted. After an hour of carrying on and whining he decided his sleep attire was not satisfactory. He wanted fire trucks and he wanted them now! We traipsed upstairs to search for the fire truck sweater he wore last year for a Christmas party. All the while I am chanting in the inner sanctums of my brain, "Please still fit...please still fit!" I found the sweater buried in the back of a drawer. With a simple tug and pull the sweater was on and the screaming subsided. "FIRETRUCK PANTS!!!" shrilled the 2 1/2 year old demon seed. Fire truck pants?! Do you own fire truck pants? Then my overly amazing brain remembered that Grady had fire truck pajamas that may do the trick. Thankfully they did. We completed the ensemble with a very small pair of fire truck socks. Ok, they really have cement mixers on them but he was none the wiser. And with this great wardrobe a smile slowly crept across his face and my world was good…at least for the next ten minutes!