Keep reading to the end to see who the winner of the give away sponsored by Borden and Elsie the Cow!
The other evening I could smell a very distinct aroma coming from my neighborhood--the scent of smokey fire emblazoned with notes of oak. My first thought was someone was smoking something meaty and delicious nearby. My husband who was taking out the trash had the same thought enter his mind as he ventured outside. Thoughts of barbecuing entered my mind and then quickly exited as I saw my husband run in the house with an empty pitcher of water.
Then it hit me.
I looked out the kitchen window and saw the blackened fence and smoke creeping from under our wooden deck.
The kids had caught the fence and leaves under the deck on fire.
As we grabbed the water hose and fought to put out the flames before the creepy p0rno neighbor saw what was ablaze (dude, I've always said that if his house caught on fire that I'd be the first in my lawn chair watch it all go down...little did I know my kids might be the arsonists) I wondered if I should dial 911.
When we finally got the fire and smoke under control I couldn't help but wonder what thoughts must have raced through my mother's own mind that one time my twin brother and my older sister caught the front yard on fire.
Or that one time my twin brother and the next door neighbor hid under my sister's bed with a match and a can of Tinactin. After my mother caught them with the homemade blow torch, she made my brother stand on the side of the road with a cardboard sign that read "Don't Play with Me: I Will Catch Your Kids on Fire." Which worked until he and I caught my grandparent's closet carpet on fire.
Yes, Beevis and Butthead run in our family.
But apparently not just my family does pyromania run as my husband's family also has that problem.
- Uncle Arlen caught a field, a camping trailer, and shed on fire as a young man and well into his 40s.
- Husband and his brother caught an entire house on fire and it burnt to the ground.
- In fact, my husband and I first met at a bonfire playing with hot coals. So I guess you could say our relationship started by playing with fire. So I should've known my kids would too.
- We won't even mention that time I lived in Sapulpa, Oklahoma and me, my twin brother, my father, and a group of his friends shot off bottle rockets in the front yard toward the Warehouse Market one Fourth of July night when I was fourteen. Everyone's bottle rockets got confiscated...except mine.
- I think my twin brother used the rest of my bottle rockets lighting them off on one end of the house and watching them go to the other end. Inside of course.
- I'm surprised with all the pyroantics we got ourselves into that we never blew up the Texaco my father owned.
- Dear Sapaloopa coppers, I'm pretty sure the statute of limitations is up on that one.
- There may or may not have been potheads present.
And with that, I leave you with this:
Don't let my children play with your children: they WILL catch your kids on fire.
I also vaguely remember that one time I caught my boys in the bathroom lighting paper on fire and last week burning a hole in their bedroom carpet. Who votes "burn one of their favorite toys" at this point? I'm thinking it may be the only thing that works.
The winner of the Borden and Elsie the Cow contest is...Teresa from Gossip at the Fence! Congratulations! Now email me so I can get that prize package off to you!
Thanks everyone for participating and good luck next time. Actually, get ready because TOMORROW there's another review and giveaway going on right here on Screwed Up Texan! So, tell all your friends, your readers, and your split personalities to head on over here tomorrow for some more giveaway fun!
I'm on fire this month!
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