Confession (with apologies to my mom):

(Mom, if you are reading this, I didn't mean for you to find out like this.)

When I was 13 years old, I told my mom that my sleeping bag got burned up from laying it to close to a campfire, so I had to throw it away.

Here's what really happened: My friends talked me into sneaking 2 babyfood jars full of assorted liquors from my dad's bar to our campout. To hide them, I carefully rolled them into my sleeping bag. By the time I got to my buddy's house, both jars had broken and my sleeping bad smelled like a still.

I panicked and came up with the idea to burn the evidence in the campfire that night. (Note to others who might want to try this: sleeping bags are made of some super space-age flame retardant material that can't be burned.) After the bag was done smoldering, we hid it in my buddy's hayloft, where it probably still sits today.