It turns out *we* are the terrible neighbors

When the Pretend Husband went to empty the ashes out of our pellet stove yesterday, the tray was still too hot and burned a hole through the oven mitt he tried to use to carry it outside. I opened the door to find him bent down next to the tiny garden pond by our front steps, trying to break the layer of ice on top and dip the oven mitt into the water.

As he came inside, the PH threw the oven mitt onto a pizza box sitting on the front steps (I think he was going to hold it under the ash tray to make sure ashes didn't fall onto the floor as he walked?) and I warned him to make sure the oven mitt wasn't still burning because it could start a fire.

An hour later, the doorbell rang, I heard the PH yell, "Fire!" as he walked into the hallway and I immediately began filling a bowl with water. As the PH took over that job, I opened our front door to find our neighbor pouring his beer onto the charred remains of the oven mitt and pizza box.

Our neighbor, while working in his garage and trying to enjoy a beer, had noticed huge clouds of smoke drifting over from our property. From his house, it looked like the smoke was coming from the bedroom windows of our house and so he hustled over to investigate. As he was arriving on our doorstep, intending to find out if we were home, he came upon the actual fire that was creating all that smoke and, as I mentioned, wasted a perfectly good beer putting it out for us.

All I can say it, thank goodness our neighbor is the type of guy who investigates first and calls the fire department second. And you had better believe I made the PH tell me I was right about not leaving the oven mitt sitting on cardboard.