Friday, July 7, 2017

Fireworks and Naps and Libraries

Growing up, my dad used to make his own fireworks.  Except they weren't so much fireworks as small bombs.  There wasn't any sparkle or dazzle or "Oooooo"s and "Aaaaaaah"s.  There was watching him run like the dickens after lighting one as he yelled, "CLOSE YOUR EYES, CLOSE YOUR EYES, CLOSE YOUR EYES!"  There was also feeling a wave of pressure move through your body as it exploded/detonated and, one year, the sound of a motion sensor light shattering on our friend's garage.  

Our children listen to such stories with fascination; prior to this year we'd never bought so much as a snake to celebrate the Fourth, and they treat my Independence Day anecdotes like they do all my stories from my childhood:  like missives from another planet.

Even with that upbringing, somehow my own family has never purchased a single firework.  We have also never set our money on fire and watched in awe as it burns.  At least, not until this year.  That's right, we went crazy and spent two whole American dollars on sparklers.  It turns out that waiting to introduce your kids to fireworks- other than attending big fireworks shows- until they're a bit older makes them a little leery of holding something that sizzles and sends out tiny burning sparks that land on your skin.  I can't imagine why.
The lighter is obscured by Derek's giant paw, but the anxiety on Atticus's face is clear enough.  

Not to worry- he got over it.

It seemed kind of sad that Adelaide had had zero exposure to home fireworks until she was eleven (although, I don't know- do sparklers even count as fireworks?), but then I read on the packaging that they were to be used only by those twelve years of age and older and felt better.  I chose to continue feeling better as I ignored Derek's comment about that warning only being there to keep themselves from being held liable.  

When we haven't been holding burning sticks in our hands as a natural outlet to celebrate our freedom from British rule(?), we've been at Big Creek, where the children bob about in the water and I refuse to leave the shade of the shelter because since moving northward I have become a whiny, cranky baby about the heat.  
 Then we stop and get some of very favorite ice cream, because again:  whiny, cranky baby.

The added benefit to all this is it leaves our children utterly wiped out.  I am not ashamed to tell you that this has long been a major factor in my parenting. 

When we haven't been doing any of the above, we've been at the library.  For the most part (but honestly, not all the parts), the kids have handled coming to work with me most days rather well this summer.  It helps that we have programs geared toward them (Tween Book Club, Lego Club, etc) many of the times they're there, but still- it's a lot of library time.
This of course only reinforces my urge to wear them out any time we're outside of the library.  Oh, how fun it must be to be a child of mine.


1 comment:

  1. Not sure which son it is, but the guy in the car looking right at the camera has beautiful eyes!!!! We haven't bought our kids any fireworks yet - not even sparklers. We were at a friend's lake house this year though, and they put on their own show. Serious fireworks. Explosions, etc. Their neighbors at the lake were antsy about their history with fireworks. One neighbor turned on her sprinklers and hosed down her deck. Hee hee!

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