When we were young, our house had wall-to-wall shag carpeting. I don’t know why, really. Maybe shag carpets were ‘in’ back then….Anyway…
One day my older brother and I were home alone; I was probably somewhere between 8 and 10, and he’s two years older than I am. So we’re standing in his room…and he’s holding matches. What is it with boys and setting things on fire?!? So he lights a match, and he’s holding a piece of paper. Now, i don’t really remember the details of our conversation, but I’m sure it went something like this:
Me: Don’t play with the matches…we aren’t even supposed to touch them.
Him: Don’t be a wimp! I’m just going to light this paper, then I’ll blow it out.
Me: This is a bad idea. If mom and dad find out, they’ll kill us. And really they should only kill you, because I’m against this all together! But I’m sure they’ll take me down, too.
Him: Shut up!
So he brings the paper to the match, and it catches fire. He watches it for a few seconds.
Me: Blow it out already!!
A few seconds later, he tries to blow it out. But of course he’s waited too long, so it won’t go out. Genius drops it, and the rug catches fire. And this part I remember perfectly:
Him: Step on it! Put it out! [No, no… You don’t have to read it again. And it’s not a typo either…That’s right! That was HIM telling ME to put it out!]
And I’m just about to, too, when I realized that I’m bare foot! And what’s more…HE HAS HIS SNEAKERS ON!!
Needless to say, I tell him what a clown he is (only I wasn’t quite so nice) and he stomps out the fire.
To cover up the burnt section of the rug, we rearranged the furniture. I’m not sure if my parents found out or not…but I definitely won’t go sharing that story with my kids!