“Do you really think we should put more wood on the fire pit?” I asked my hubby as he prepared our patio for s’mores with the kids.
“But the sparks…look. They are really flying out of the fire and I just bought a new canopy for this gazebo.”
“The sparks are burning out before they get that high.”
“Yeah, but every time you poke the wood, they get bigger and hotter. Look at that one up there, clinging to the new canvas!”
“It’ll burn out.” Poke, poke, stir, poke.
Me, white knuckled. “The smoke is really strong.”
Him, “Smoke follows beauty, har, har.”
Me, “Hack, acchooie, honk, kersnort, I think, the, hack, cough, canopy is on fire.”
“Dad, my marshmallow just disintegrated!”
“Get a new one.”
“Dad, the chocolate is liquid and the crackers are black.”
“Well, move back a little bit.”
“Ow! Dad, the sparks are burning me and the dog just fainted from the heat.”
“He’s just resting.”
“Honey, seriously, stop poking at the flames, and really? More wood? The paint on the house is blistering.”
“No it’s not! You all just need to chill out.”
The kid and dog headed to the pool. I went inside. He headed to the wood pile for more fuel.