When I was a kid, fireworks were strictly forbidden in my smallish, droughtish, fire hazardish town. You went to the local high school to watch the big fireworks, but no one had sparklers or those spinning butterfly things. NO ONE. So I tend to channel my husband's grandma when these things are around - she was a devout Roman Catholic who frowned on card games because they were too much like gambling. Fireworks seem sort of sinful and bad. When I was a kid, very few towns had fireworks stands, and if we saw any at all, they were in the "bad" part of town.
I admit to being shocked our first July fourth here in our house because our neighbors, church-going Lutherans and the nicest people in the world, set off small bombs in front of their house! Ack!
Thank to two small boys and a husband who turns into a small boy around fireworks, we have a value pack of dangerous-looking explosives on our dining room table. I should note that these are "Safe and Sane" fireworks - but then why are they called "Crazy Eyeballs?" Have you seen these packages? They look like they could blow up the world.
Anyway, the boys needed to make sure they weren't duds and set off a few last night in the street while I was at work. A. was completely beside himself with excitement when I got home.
"They look like eyes! And they spin around and go boom! pop!" he said, waving his arms around and jumping. I think I'm going to do a video of him imitating various fireworks.
After our bedtime book, he said, "I want to explain the fireworks to you again!"
After lights out, he was in there drawing pictures by the light of the hallway for a new fireworks book that he's authoring. Every time we went to that part of the house, he'd call out something like, "I'm gonna make up a sing-along-song about fireworks and make a movie!" He couldn't stop talking.
So guess what's happening tomorrow night? Ben's a little intimidated by the loud noise, so he and I will be inside saying a rosary or something.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Bad Boys, Whatchu Gonna Do
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4 comments:
I'm not a huge fan of home fireworks either. I'm always convinced someone is going to get blown up by them (that's courtesy of my dad told us we could blow ourselves up as a way to keep from having to buy them). And if you aren't blown up, there is a good chance you will set the world will on fire which is what we hear on the news all the time because we live in the desert and that outdoors? It's just a tinderbox waiting to go up.
So, yeah, tomorrow will find me home, rocking in the fetal position as the cat and I hide from the apocalypse of fireworks.
You sheltered thing! I think I had sparklers at the very least every year. I was all gung ho with them until DDD decided to touch one of the lit ones one year when I stupidly put one in the hands of a wee one. But the thing that put me over the edge was when Barry's poorly launched rocket nearly took of Dad's head at Big Sis' house. Remember that? AAAAAYYYYY!
I'll watch from a distance, thanks.
off. not of.
blegh.
No, I don't remember that at all. I may not have been there. Actually, I sort of hope I wasn't there because if I was it looks bad that I don't remember it. "Oh, Barry almost killed Dad? Nope, must not have registered."
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