Reality Check

So today is back to work for me and back to the real world so to speak.  Did it have to be quite so literal?  I came into work to find a large project awaiting me (which I sort of expected) but got slammed with some scary behavior on Rob's part before I even got  out the door to go to work. I routinely search Rob's room.  Part of me feels badly about this but he is a wicked hoarder (I have to do this with Chet as well) and periodically I just need to get the junk out that they are unable to do themselves.  It isn't that Rob doesn't know how to clean; he can help greatly in other areas of the house. But deciding what is trash and what isn't, nope, can't do that. I knew he had done holiday wrapping in his room so I figured when I put laundry away it would be time for a quick "shovelling" out of his closet.  I brought a trash bag and sure enough, threw away a boat load of bits of wrapping paper, tags taken off the gifts, twisty ties (which I have to throw out or the dog inexplicably tries to eat them) and other oddments.  Found a few things he is not supposed to have in his room, but nothing too bad.  Until I found the empty box that matches come in.  And my heart stopped.  I saw no actual sign that he had lit any matches.  He swears the box was empty when he took it which I frankly find hard to believe. Rob has had an ongoing fire fascination for quite a while.  It ebbs and flows, but never quite goes away I guess. And Rob will lie till the sun comes up the next day if he thinks he is in trouble.  I wasn't yelling but I was freaking.  Part of me still is.  A 17 y/o boy died in a house fire a few months ago and the house is diagonally behind us.  That fire was no ones fault but the screams of that night will echo in my mind forever.  When we were talking things through he became very dizzy and had to lie down and said he had a headache.  I am not sure if it is stress (which it could well be) or the bug that is going around in our area (which it also could well be) but it was obvious that it was time to table conversation for now.  So it gives me time to fret, stress, and oh yeah, ponder the best way to handle this.