So ever since Eric has ‘MADE FIRE’ in our new little Korean fireplace, there’s been a great debate between the merits of the teepee structure vs. the A-frame approach.

But before I get into that, let me back-up for those who need to catch up.

[read the full story here]

The long & short of it is that our entire wood delivery was green – making it that much harder to light than wood that had aged & dried out. In fact, the only way we could get it lit was by using a firelog. And upon Eric’s first successful attempt there was much rejoicing from the testosterone side of the house.

I was very glad to have a nice roaring fire & was very grateful to Eric for all his hard work. I love my man & he takes very good care of me.

But the truth be told, the whole time I watched him in attempt after attempt all I could think was….I bet I could make a fire.

Now fess up…how many of you women out there would’ve thought or have thought the same thing?

Surely I can’t be alone in this.

[cue the music]

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I can’t be the only one who got her Girl Scout Campfire Badge?!

On a side note, I’ve just spent a couple of minutes hunting up the actual badge on the Girl Scouts site and what has happened to the Girl Scouts? A ‘Staying Safe’ patch? An ‘Asthma Awareness’ patch?…I don’t see anything I remember. Where’s the campfire badge? The camping out badge? The hiking badge? First aid?…C’mon, you gotta at least give out a First Aid patch.

But I kept my mouth shut & decided that come tomorrow…I  would make fire.

And sure enough…with Eric safely off to work – secure in his manhood….I made fire….on the first attempt…without a firelog.

To celebrate Maggie & I danced naked through the house chanting,

‘GIRL POWER! GIRL POWER! Whoo Hoo!!! GIRL POWER, BABY!’

I had done it. I had made my own fire. I had proven to myself that I could do it.

[...dawning realization...]

I WAS THE GREAT & POWERFUL FIRE QUEEN!

ALL HAIL THE FIRE QUEEN!

[enter a little voice]

…But what about the Fire King?…

Fudge.

If he came home & found me with a fire in the fireplace & our last store-bought firelog still on the floor – not in use – it would not look good.

It would be an insult. It would be a slap in the face of his manhood. He would mistakenly think that I don’t need him to care for me, that I don’t need him to watch over me, that I don’t need him to protect me.

Yes, I am an independent woman, thank you very much. But I’m an independent woman who likes having a big, strong man around who’s safe & secure in his manhood.

So I enjoyed the fire through-out the day & let it die out a couple of hours before Eric got home.

I told myself I was doing the right thing.

I told myself it was for the best.

I told myself to just keep my mouth shut…

…and I did…

until about an hour after he got home.

I was just too proud of myself to stay silent any longer.

I wanted him to be proud of me, too. I wanted to share my accomplishment with him.

I’ll spare you the conversational details – suffice it to say, I had to prove it.

I had to recreate my fire-making skills and give a step-by-step instructional overview of exactly how I had done it.

I passed the test. The fire lit again.

And there was much grumbling from the testosterone side of the house.

Love you, Baby

[and if you've never watched IceAge 3: the Meltdown, highly recommend it]