I remember watching it burn. It was magical really. The flame danced in its coat of yellow, orange and blue and just as the last of the match was consumed by the flame, pain seared my fingertips and in an instant reaction I dropped it. I had dropped it on to my mom’s pants lying on the floor of her bedroom in which I was supposed to be having a nap.
I saw the flame spill like water up the varathaned paneled walls and spread its amazing coat of many colors before my eyes. It was just like in the movies only up close and personal. It really was quite awe inspiring. I remember thinking “I’m in trouble” so I laid down on the bed and pretended to sleep praying that my mom wouldn’t notice the front of her house burning down with her daughter in it.
I’ll make my point short and sweet…… I’m alive!!! I figure if I could make it through life so will my daughter………Right? I think I was a pretty good child so the fact that my daughter takes after her mother shouldn’t be anything to worry about, right? (Insert nervous laugh here)
We won’t mention the second time I almost burnt my parents’ house down my first year in college……