Not a quiet night

So I got home late last night, after a bit of partying with some of the girls from work. Add to that the time it took to catch up with Pete, nurse the baby and get ready for bed and I was in bed pretty late....only to wake up an hour later to weird lights flashing around the bedroom. It took me a moment to determine that it wasn't just the storm. I saw a firetruck drive by and when I peeked out the front door I saw this: I freaked out at first, thinking it was the red house where our nice new neighbors and their two young kids live. After I woke Pete and got outside I saw that the firefighters had gotten everyone out of their houses. I stood around in my pajamas in the rain for a bit, talking to the other neighbors and learned it was the garage of the yellow house that was on fire. We grabbed a t-shirt and blanket for some other people that were outside (and invited them inside, but I think everyone was just waiting to get back into their own houses). When we did see Helena from across the street I was pointing her out to some firefighters. She smiled at me and said "Good Morning!" This is the same woman who has brought live opera to our neighborhood- but that's a whole other story. She's so sweet. I couldn't believe in the midst of the rain, at 4AM, with her two little kids out of bed, that she was able to smile and say "Good Morning" to me.
When the owner of the garage came over to our little huddle I started to feel a little guilty. He said when he woke his son to get out of the house the little boy shouted "My R.C. cars!!" and started to run to the garage. Of course I'm glad the boy was safe, but I can't say I felt too bad about those obnoxious cars. I have, on more than one occasion, daydreamed about accidentally backing over them.
Here's how the garage looked this morning:
I think it's already been torn down by now. Someone said the family had just been redoing their family room and all of their furniture was in the garage. So that sucks. I'm hoping for a quieter night tonight.