My house.

My co-homeowner, Maria Forsythe-Chopin¹, came home from work yesterday and said, Let's rake the yard. Here's what I should have said to her: Bitch, the fuck you talkin', rake the yard on the windiest day in a month?

But instead I went outside and we, with a rake apiece, went at it. Soon, my co-homeowner, Maria Forsythe-Chopin, asked to borrow my lighter to start a bonfire. Here's what I should have said to her: Bitch, the fuck you talkin', lighting a bonfire in the backyard on the windiest day in a month?

But instead I handed over my lighter and my co-homeowner, Maria Forsythe-Chopin, started a bonfire and placed, across the fire pit, several uncut 8-foot-long 2x4"s so that their centers would burn. Then my co-homeowner, Maria Forsythe-Chopin, went away to buy a tarp at the Home Despot, leaving the fire in my care. Later, I mentioned my alarm at her fire-building skills, particularly about the 2x4"s. 'They burned through, didn't they?' she said. Yes, I said. 'And they fell in, didn't they?' she said. No, I said. They fell out. Every single burning half-of-a-2x4" fell outside of the fire pit. On fire. In our yard. 'Oh,' she said. 'Oops.'

That's my house.

———
¹This is an anagram. It's really a guy. So 'bitch' is ok.