Priorities

A very long story, but here's the short version:

Earlier this week we had some work done on our meters.  I had been told when the appointment was scheduled that the repairman would need access to our house because our gas would be shut off and, upon restoration, the pilot lights would need to be manually lit.  So the boys and I sat at home, waiting for the repairman who, of course, arrive in the last hour of the four hour window.  He went to work outside.  About an hour later, I discovered that he had left without a word!  I was irritated but, whatever. 

A couple of hours later, it occurred to me that maybe in addition to 'irritated' I should be 'concerned.'  I mean, what about those pilot lights he was supposed to relight?  I hurried to the basement to check and found that all of the pilot lights were light and there was no smell of gas.  Phew!

When I came back upstairs, though, I realized that Cameron had been scared by the episode and had taken up post at the front door in case he needed to flee an inferno.  In his hand, he held a bag.  In the bag?  The contents of his piggy bank.  Just in case.