Definition: In this task, you are given a Reddit post as a text. Your task is to generate a title for this text. The title should start with "TIFU by", followed by a situation that caused humor. The title should contain 7-12 words, ideally.
Input: Text: i am inspired to write this [in response to the front page thread "how to set your house on fire](https://www.reddit.com/r/wtf/comments/832ywk/how_to_set_your_house_on_fire/).

** 

obviously, this was like 28 years ago, so it's not today. 

my friend (jay, we'll call him) and i were "celebrating" our 8th grade graduation. or maybe it was his mother's wedding. or maybe something else. who the hell knows, it's not important what we were celebrating except that we were alone in his house hanging out being stupid. 

and smoking. smoking cigarettes only of course. we lost the lighter eventually and jay pulled out some strike anywhere matches. for the uninformed, phosphorous is what makes strike anywhere matches different: it burns a hell of a lot faster than wood or paper, and hotter. strike anywhere matches are full of it. 

in the course of time, we're lighting the matches off of everything, of course. our teeth, across our fingernails, the walls, whatever. totally amazed by this marvel of science.

all of these matchsticks go into a giant, 1970's ashtray when we blow them out. it looks, after we're done, like a giant pile of kindling. i think the matches used to come in 300 match boxes, and we'd gone through half of one just playing around. 

now we have this giant ashtray, in the middle of the living room, and recognize a certain "campfire" vibe. keep in mind that there's a fireplace just a few feet from us, and we've built fires there before (alone and unattended) and have often camped together (unattended) and don't think anything of building a fire. 

all this kindling should be put to good use, we decide. let's roast some marshmallows. 

the first couple only get half done. have to wait for the initial chemical stuff to burn off before throwing the match in and roasting the marshmallow on it, of course. eventually, we resort to adding some newspaper to the little ashtray in the middle of the living room (right next to a fireplace) to keep it going long enough to actually roast a marshmallow. 

we're using forks to do the roasting, which we think is cool because, on a full blown fire, you'd have to use a real stick or something longer. we're really smart, we think, and have invented the next big thing. 

occasionally, the fire did die out in certain parts of the giant ashtray. there are two of us trying to roast marshmallows, so of course that side needs to be re-invigorated with more matches, right? only fair.

so, for a couple of minutes we're trying to see who can roast his marshmallow perfectly. to do that, you require your own little area of the fire, and tending to that required a perfect mix of newspaper, matches and blowing on it. 

to be honest, i don't know who threw the last matchstick, because the first few seconds are a blur except "tink" and a strange sensation on my foot. really, had no idea what happened and when i did figure it out there was fire on my sock. 

it was only a couple of second later that i realized that the ashtray had exploded and that there was fucking magma and burning matches and burning newspaper all over the carpet, some on the couch, some on the vcr, everywhere. 

as calmly as possible for a person of my demeanor, i said "holy shit" and started swatting at my sock. jay, meanwhile, had risen and stepped back, was staring at the scene completely confused. like "holy shit mastrorvm's sock is on fire, but holy shit wtf just happened in other areas too." 

shortly after i got my sock off, we sprang into action, each taking different routes to water sources. i ran to the bathroom and grabbed the cup that they kept their toothbrushes in, jay to the kitchen and filled a pot. i should say that my route was obstructed by burning stuff, so i went the only sensible route that i could choose, and jay had the edge on getting towards the kitchen. all the time we're yelling to each other "holy fuck, what happened."

we eventually extinguish all the fires. the damage is done, though. the ashtray is completely destroyed, has exploded. it formerly resided on jay's parent's coffee table, so we're going to have to figure out how to explain that. eventually, we couldn't come up with an explanation (were probably too exhausted) and just pretended that didn't happen.

next, the burnt carpet. actually, and surprisingly, the area under the ashtray was not burnt so bad. the area just around it was like a bomb had gone off, albeit a small bomb. and everywhere that the bomb sent shrapnel was now doused in water. the vcr we just had to beat out, because we didn't want to do any damage to it. sensitive electronic equipment and water don't mix, yo?

by now it's 2am, jay's mom gets off work at 4 and will be home by 4:30.

our course of action was clear, after much discussion: vacuum up the water in a shop vac, and then shave off the burnt fibers of the carpet. 

we set about scratching off, in the finest way possible at first but eventually just dragging the knives across, the burnt bits of carpet. there were probably 30 areas that had been on fire, and there was a significant circle of carpet in the middle of the explosion that was obvious. not too obvious, but obvious. 

just a few feet from the fireplace, mind you. 

we actually went and got the dog's brush and distributed hair around the epicenter to disguise it to look like dust bunnies.  

we were still working on this stuff when she pulled up. we'd made some precautions, like putting away the shop vac, and ran to bed. she came in and put away her stuff (we were upstairs but could hear her) and complained that she knew that we'd made a fire (this is freaking june and it was warm outside, can't blame her). 

we'd left a couple of the charred forks somewhere in the kitchen. the next morning she confronted us. we didn't give her the whole story, about the stupidity of building a fire in an ashtray or even acknowledge the destruction of the ashtray, but i did cop to smoking cigarettes in the house. at this point, she didn't know that jay was a smoker at all, so she said i couldn't come over the rest of the summer, and jay couldn't come over to mine. which really blew in those days. 

she never punished jay, either, so at least he didn't get found out. we did a good job cleaning that shit up. she was a single mom at that time, living in a really too-big house, with a lot on her plate. she must have figured something out, though.

all through high school, jay and i would hang out in public but when i went over to their house i was pariah #1. she remarried a complete dick that would fuck with me constantly, fuck with my friends, too. she sold that house and moved elsewhere, the same stuff continued. that burnt marshmallow fork. 


**tl:dr** roast marshmallows in an ashtray, nearly cause a house fire, friend's mom is on to me

TIFU by roasting marshmallows in an ashtray