Scofflaws

We are in the midst of a very dry season, here in Central Indiana. I haven't seen the latest weather report, but the last time I checked, the graphic they were using to show how dry things are around here, the drought line was creeping ever closer.

There have been field fires almost daily. There are bans on open burning in nearly 50 counties, including ours. The temperatures have been high, the humidity low, the winds strong, and the rain non-existent.

So of course on Saturday night, the first cool evening of the season, we decided to roast marshmallows. In our patio fireplace. Right out there in the open. Where we weren't supposed to be burning stuff. We live on the edge, y'all.

It was fun and sticky.



We were extra careful, keeping the hose handy. We didn't need it for the fire, but I was pretty close to hosing down a couple of the kids before allowing them into the house.

Yes. We are scofflaws. Scofflaws with extra giant marshmallows (seriously--they were twice the size of the regular big marshmallows. A hamster could have used them for a pillow!) that were begging to be roasted. I dare you to have a package like that sitting on your counter and then tell your children that you were just kidding, you weren't really going to use them for roasting, you were just keeping them there for looks.

That's what I thought. You'd be joining me in my jail cell. Outlaws. All of you.

*To be fair, we did call the city and received no answer. Then my husband stopped by the nearest fire house to ask if we could use our patio fireplace and found it empty, so we just made an executive decision that the marshmallows could indeed be roasted as long as we kept the hose handy.