A True Firefighter's Daughter

We went out to a mexican restaurant Sunday afternoon with some friends after a birthday party. Karina was sitting next to me and coloring on her napkin while we were waiting for our food to arrive.

Soon, our waiter came and brought out the food, including a steaming hot plate of fajitas to our friend Alex sitting across from me. A few of us leaned in close to enjoy the enticing aroma and jealously admire the fajitas, but when I turned back to see if Karina's food had arrived, she was laying totally flat on her chair and staring wide-eyed up at the food.

"Sit up at the table, Honey," I said, feeling a bit frustrated at her poor display of table manners.

"No, Daddy!" she whispered with a dead serious expression on her face, still staring at the steam rising from the fajitas. "There's smoke! We need to stay low!"


I busted up laughing, and at the same time felt very proud that my daughter remembered our lessons and fire drills as we practiced what we would do if there was smoke or fire in the house.

"It's okay, Honey," I reassured her, "There is no fire. Just some hot food."