So the kids bundled up and went outside to play this afternoon. Good idea. They were gone for a long time without coming in for potty breaks, drinks, or to get something else. Every time I checked on them they were just running around in the yard picking up sticks. Seemed harmless enough.

Until they came in breathless and pink-cheeked asking if they could have some firematches (their term) to make a bonfire out of the pile of sticks they had piled up in the fort on the top of their swingset. Under the big tree. The big tree that also hangs over our neighbor’s house.

Um, excuse me?! NO!

I did tell them if they’d haul all the sticks down and pile them in the BBQ grill that Daddy would burn them for them later. He’s a pyro too. Aren’t all men and children?

I need to remember to get marshmallows.

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