My middle child woke up very ill this morning and was really bummed because she would have to stay home from school and subsequently her Christmas Concert tonight. I tried to make her feel better by promising to start a fire in our fireplace so she could enjoy the cozy feeling of being near the lit up Christmas tree and burning logs.
My husband is classically the one who starts the fires in our family. A former Boy Scout, he is amazing at getting a fire started without using an entire box of matches and a ream of scrap paper. I am pretty bad at starting fires but wanted to make my depressed child feel better, so I fussed with the fireplace for nearly an hour.
We had a roaring blaze one minute and a fizzling black void the next. My daughter stopped caring about the fire but I was determined to succeed. Even if it meant burning the house down. Finally, after a dozen matches gave their lives and an unspeakable amount of paper crumpled for the cause, this happened:
I pumped up the Christmas songs and my little girl curled up on the couch to read in front of the fire. It lasted a glorious 30 minutes. Now the fire is only in the embers and the logs are half burnt, but my daughter feels a little better. I didn’t burn the house down, and when my husband gets home I think I will ask him for a Boy Scout fire building lesson!