I happen to have found a really small firecracker underneath the rear seat, apparently left over from the recent 4th of July memories. I proceeded to light it and toss it in my dad's 100 acre cow pasture. "Look at that Dubby, that firecracker started a little fire". Words I had no idea would come back to haunt me forever.

Thirty minutes, one failed firetruck attempt, two broken tractor plows, one frantic dad, three days and THREE HUNDRED acres of pasture and forest later, mercifully, the fire finally stopped burning (I know how long it took. I sat in our back yard in one place, one stance, with no matches, food, water or dignity and watched it untill it burned itself out and was old news by then).

Luckily no one or no one's property was hurt, at least not too bad. ;)

That Louisiana August grass caught fire and ABSOLUTELY WOULD NOT BE DENIED!! (damn you, rotten grass!!)

I learned my lesson the hard way. Nowadays, if I come across a tiny, innocent looking little fire-cracker, my first instinct is to coil up into a fetal position and hide underneath a coffee table.

That's one of my 3 or 4 pyromaniac stories - but one that rates pretty high up there (right next to "No Sir Daddy, I didn't light my sister's bed on fire and burn down half the house!").

Remember, only 'I' can prevent 'ME' from starting fires!! (so head the other way when you see me with anything flammable.)

Be safe,

pyRick