The evening of the fireball.

So we just got back from vacation.  We spent two wonderful weeks at my parents cabin.  Always a good time.

The night of our last fire out there was an interesting one.  My brother (Juice Box*), his girlfriend (Sunny*), my Mother (Mom), Geoff and myself were all sitting around a nice roaring fire that Juice Box* had built for us.  Geoff and I had been downing a few wobbly pops throughout the evening.  If memory serves me correctly I believe even Juice Box* and Sunny* had a couple beverages.

We were all having a nice night watching the stars, Geoff and I seen the same shooting star (I'll pause for the collective "Ahhhh"). . . . . . . . . . and during all this chit chat my darling husband was poking at the fire and somehow put it out.  The more he tried to bring it back to life the worse it was got, finally Juice Box* had to step in and revive our heat source.  Which he successfully did in a matter of moments.

Conversation resumed and Geoff went back to stoking the fire and managed to put it out again, this time when Juice Box* came to save it Geoff continued to "help" by just piling on as much wood as he could find until we finally all told him to sit down and that his fire stoking privileges were revoked.

Somehow Geoff got a hold of a new poking stick and flicked a giant ember (more like a burning log, honestly bigger than your two fists put together), out of the fire pit on the opposite side to where Sunny* and myself were sitting.  After a few more than tipsy attempts by my man to "gently" nudge the ember back into the firepit we all knew this was not going to end well.  I made what I thought was a joke to Geoff to shoot it at me as I'm in dodgeball and, because of my extensive training, could easily dodge it.  Mom, Juice Box*, Sunny* and I carry on talking and out of (what seemed like) no where

A FUCKING FIREBALL HITS ME IN THE CHEST!

The campfire erupts with laughter.

Geoff runs to my side, in tears from laughing so hard, not to see if I'm ok but to brush off all the sparks that were on his hoodie that I happened to be wearing.  He then says sorry, not to me but to Sunny* for shooting it so close to her as she was wearing my Mom's extremely flammable jacket.

Geoff sat back down and just kept chatting with everyone like nothing had happened, my jaw was still dropped in shock so I rudely  interrupted all conversation and yelled "You shot a fucking fireball at my chest!"  He then went on to blame me for this happening as I told him to shoot it at me because of my dodgeball skills, which apparently aren't as good as I thought they were.  Somehow, everyone agreed with Geoff on that point and he was no longer at fault.

Oh my. . .just another day!


*Names changed for privacy reasons, my brother and his girlfriend are rock stars who prefer to remain anonymous.