“Now half of Cityfish wants to come. What have I done?”
That’s the text the Masshole and I get from our best bud/duplex neighbor last night. His name is PD.
Earlier in the day PD and I conspired to have a fire night at our house to celebrate what is probably the last cold snap we’ll have until 2014. Plus we have a Christmas tree to burn. The Masshole will be busy hobnobbing at her company’s national convention. The cat’s away….
We invited 10 people over. Monday night worked best for us. We figured even though it’s a “school night” it would be fine as long as it’s a fairly early night.
Seeing that it’s March, that 6 foot Christmas tree is bone dry. That thing will go up like a roman candle. The last time we burned our Christmas tree, we had an 8 foot tall fire rushing out of our fire pit. The Masshole is warning me to please be careful. I assure her. I’ve tagged our firefighter friend in a Facebook post about the upcoming Burning Man party at the house. That’s good enough right?! But secretly, PD has, “a vision of our Xmas tree on fire blowing like a tumbleweed from hell through Langford Park.”
Next time, we’ll chop the tree into smaller, less destructive, segments. We’re wicked smart! The problem is, neither PD nor I will wield an ax and chop that tree up. I had planned to ask The Masshole to pre-chop the tree up. However, AG, chimes in, “I’m skilled in ax usage.” Awesome. In a bourbon fueled haze she’s going to chop up the tree for us. We might need another first responder other than the fire department.
“I invited JP to your fire. Monday is her birthday.”
That’s the text PD and I got from the Masshole.
Okay that’s fine; I was going to invite JP over anyways. She’s one of my favorites.
The rest of the party planning went a little like this:
BFF – I’ll bring gasoline to start the fire with. I remember last time the wind kept blowing it out.
PD – Good thinking, BFF. Don’t forget the smoke bombs.
BFF – You got it!
“Lock the doors Adrienne.”
Those are The Masshole’s final words of warning.