Of all the varied members of our family, there are 2 that, at this point, lead unfair lives.
Their lives are unfair because (1) Their father coaches varsity basketball, (2) their brother plays varsity basketball, (3) their sister plays varsity volleyball, and (4) their mother administrates the 15 teams in the organization.
This has unfortunately led to their being dragged from pillar to post . . . or, more accurately, from one sporting venue to another.
And this is unfair because, at this point, these two couldn't give a rippin' flip about sports. They've got their interests, all right, but they don't involve either a round ball or a ref's shrill whistle or a driving spirit of competition.
So on Friday, when The Man of the House left to coach and Oldest Son left to dribble and drive and dunk and Oldest Sister left to keep stats in the score book, I stayed home to make a fire in the fire pit, invite a few friends, and make it their night.
Actually, Middle Son made a fire . . . a roaring fire . . . something of which I am not yet capable.
and all the necessaries were added to complete the picture.
Roasted hot dogs and marshmallows disappeared at an alarming rate.
And then, boys being boys, they began to also roast marshmallows covered in ketchup, cheddar goldfish, and, amazingly, fruit snacks.
None were considered a rousing hit, until one of them was inspired to try roasting an apple.
The apples sizzled and sputtered and the skin blackened to a silky charcoal. Then the apples were cooled and the charcoaled skin was peeled off. And to their delight, inside they found a most delicious baked apple which they devoured in large mouthfuls.
May I please add that it did my heart no end of good when Middle Son (who has been known to favor Vienna sausages, American cheese, and fast food french fries) declared that it was the most delicious snack he had ever yet been privileged to partake of.
There was lots of laughter, a few crazy competitions of their own, and a few too many marshmallows.
For those of you who are wondering why I never mentioned Youngest Daughter . . . wondering whether she fits into the "sports-addicted" category or "poor-child-living-an unfair-life" category.
Let me just say that at this point she plays no sports. But after observing her for the past 7 years, as adored baby girl of the family, I will also say that nothing about this child's life could remotely be considered "unfair."