Friday, September 18, 2009

Meet My Hottest Friend

Dear Sparky,

You are, perhaps, the wisest of our family members. Unfortunately, you have a tendency to keep pretty quiet and play things close to the chest, or should I say cage?

A few years ago, I took the proceeds from a garage sale and bought you.

If there was one thing that we all seemed to agree upon, it was our affinity for camp fires. And smores.

Perhaps you should reverse those two things...

Anyway, you became our way of winding down after a long week (long for me, kids on summer vacation don't have long weeks). Making hot dogs and smores and laughing around the campfire with my kids will always be my most favorite way of spending time.

You knew, even back then that something was horribly wrong. When it was the three of us, we would laugh and have fun. When we were joined by STBX, conversation would grind to a halt. We would listen to him bitching at us for making smores, complaining about this, that, and the other, and finding fault with the way we breathed air and exchanged carbon dioxide.

He didn't join us often, thankfully, but when he did it was miserable.

You've helped us out a lot over these past few months, my friend. You used to be on a diet of over priced campfire wood from the local gas station but then things started to change.

What tasted better? The photo album titled "precious memories" or "eternal love"?

And who would have imagined how much money and effort one person can save with the careful application of a sledge hammer. No trips to the dump with all that furniture, imbued with bad memories and evil mojo.

Can you burn a solid wood dresser in a tiny fire pit? How about a solid wood frame futon?

Why, as a matter of fact, you can!

And that weird game cabinet that STBX picked up for free along the side of the road?

Toast my friend. Toast.

And lessons were learned along the's always good to learn lessons!

The careful application of sledgehammer on thigh? Painful!

The distance once should stand from the fire pit while roasting a futon?

Farther away then what I was.

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