Gray built a fire pit on Friday, and because we're both dying to go camping but cannot make it work with our schedules, we've decided to Pretend Camp.
Pretend Camping is exactly like real camping except for the whole "camping" part.
Scary hates it - HATES! - it, probably because the fire makes popping sounds that sound suspiciously like clapping and snapping sounds, both of which (according to Scary) are the devil himself and were sent there to give her a coronary. Lily doesn't seem to give a shit what we're doing as long as she can lick herself and eat some hamburger buns when we aren't watching.
Gray suggested we add something that reminds us of camping every time we have a bonfire, so tonight, we're going to simultaneously grill AND have a fire.
I know, right? We're absofrigginlutely wild.
He suggested smores, but I hate them. I'll assemble everything and then watch him eat them, if he wants, but I would rather eat a hot coal than a smore. BLECH. Slimey and sweet and blech. No thank you.
In the future, we plan to add guitar karaoke, scary stories, drinking card games, and tornado warnings to our Pretend Camping experience. Maybe even a tent one day. I mean...the neighbors already know we're nuts, so what's a little tent sex going to do to our rep?
So Friday, we braved the rain (Gray held an umbrella over the fire for about ten minutes and I just...sat there, getting wet and laughing at him) an burned our first bunch of logs in our new fire pit. We drank Heineken and talked about how awesome it is to poke fires with a stick. I read a huge stack of old essays and papers that I dug out for inspiration.
Then we ran around town looking for nacho cheese, but that was kind of unrelated.