Our Newest Get-Rich Quick Idea

Shane loves candle light and lanterns, so last night he lit our little propane Coleman camp lamp, because we just got a new base for it, so it won't tip over and burn down the ...tent...when we're camping, or possibly start a forest fire and/or leave broken glass everywhere for me to clean up, because that is SO not relaxing.

Anyway--he turned on the lamp and was trying to put it next to my chair.

Our conversation went like this:

Me:  Turn that off, it's too noisy, and it reminds me of my childhood.  All we HAD was a stupid gas light in the whole downstairs.  Turn it off.

Him:  No, it's awesome.  Turn out the other lights, and we can sit around it...

Me:  No.  I'm trying to cross stitch and I can't see, plus the noise is driving me crazy.  Take it somewhere else.

Him:  Come on...  See?  *turns on Crosby, Stills and Nash from my 70's Spotify playlist and sits by the glow of the Coleman lamp*  We ARE hippies now.

Me:  Ummm.

Him:  Well, or we're...working hippies.  Because we work.  A lot.

Me:  Uh, yeah, that wouldn't fly.  We're like...workaholic hippies.

both laughing our heads off

Him:  Yeah.  We should write a book.  Everyone would buy it because they'd be like what is THIS? I need to read it.

Me:  The Workaholic Hippie.  That could totally be a book.  We're gonna be so rich.


That's how our evenings usually go.

And, I suppose if we write it and get rich, we'll have defeated the purpose, because aren't hippies supposed to be ...not rich?

Food for thought, anyway.  Peace out, man.