Mrs. Pupster and the Pupster boys bought me an early Father’s Day present….an Outdoor Fireplace! After a few rounds of my favorite game: “Either I’m stupid or these assembly instructions are incomplete”, I put it together and made a spot for it with paving stones in the backyard. Turns out the instructions were cryptic and I’m stupid. Double bonus. The plan was to make S’mores and have a backyard camp-out in the tent.
When I got the fire burning well, the fireplace started to smell a bit like hot metal and burning paint, not the sort of thing you want to roast marshmallows over. We opted for microwaved S’mores and shallow breaths through our noses while gathered around the campfire’s toxic glow.
I set up the tent earlier in the evening, with the Pupster boy’s able and excited assistance. We stayed up pretty late, but neither boy could sleep in the tent with their nice warm bedrooms just a few steps away, so they both bailed on the camp-out in the middle of the night, and left me snoring and shivering in the tent. It got down into the low 40’s last night, kinda chilly for late May.
I had a mild panic attack after waking up alone, cold, stiff, and covered with dew, but I rushed inside and found them both safe and snoring in their own beds. I decided not to dump a bucket of ice water on their heads at this time. It’s just too impulsive and haphazard. This kind of revenge needs planning.