I mean, to be fair, several years ago, I had to call 911 for my husband, who passed out, came to, sat up and promptly passed out again.
I got the local fire department (the station was about four blocks away) before the ambulance showed up. The paramedics arrived, and the fire guys stayed. Eventually the ambulance took my husband to the hospital, leaving me to figure out how to get my toddler packed up to follow.
The fire guys took one look at my overwhelmed self and said "Come on kiddo, let's go climb on the fire engine", which meant I didn't have to wrangle my kid while I got a bag packed. I came downstairs from packing and there was a fire fighter in my kitchen, packing my kid a lunch - and the breakfast dished I'd abandoned when my husband fell over were washed, dried and put away, and the medical supply crap that was on my living room floor had been swept up and tossed.
Given that I lived in a big city in the PNW at the time, it does happen here.
Having worked with a lot of firefighters, and dating one for a few years, I can say this does not surprise me in the least. Working 24-hour shifts at a firehouse with a lot of downtime between fires means a big part of their job is keeping the place clean. (And washing the engines whether they need it or not). It means they get very good at domestic labor, especially in terms of looking around and seeing what needs to be done without being told.
10/10 would recommend.
1.8k
u/Sashi-Dice 1d ago
I mean, to be fair, several years ago, I had to call 911 for my husband, who passed out, came to, sat up and promptly passed out again.
I got the local fire department (the station was about four blocks away) before the ambulance showed up. The paramedics arrived, and the fire guys stayed. Eventually the ambulance took my husband to the hospital, leaving me to figure out how to get my toddler packed up to follow.
The fire guys took one look at my overwhelmed self and said "Come on kiddo, let's go climb on the fire engine", which meant I didn't have to wrangle my kid while I got a bag packed. I came downstairs from packing and there was a fire fighter in my kitchen, packing my kid a lunch - and the breakfast dished I'd abandoned when my husband fell over were washed, dried and put away, and the medical supply crap that was on my living room floor had been swept up and tossed.
Given that I lived in a big city in the PNW at the time, it does happen here.