Monday, July 5, 2010


When we lived in a different town Fourth of July was quickly becoming my second favorite holiday, just behind Christmas. Since we moved to a town where most of the people we know are students who don't profess to consider our city "home" July 4th has been a wee bit lackluster. This year being no exception.

We worshiped at church in the morning followed by our monthly fellowship meal with the congregation. My contribution to lunch was the traditional 4th of July meal of pizza casserole, minus the pepperonis which, although purchased just yesterday, had already gone bad.

After church, Jason and his buddy went fishing while the children and I took a nap and then I tried (unsuccessfully) to convince them that inside voices are a Good Thing when you are playing INSIDE. My ulterior motive was to keep the noise level down to an appropriate decibel so that I could watch the Criminal Minds marathon I DVR-ed on A&E without turning the TV up so loud that it drew their attention.

We had leftovers for dinner, and when J got home we set out to watch the fireworks. When we got to our usual spot (and by "usual" I mean the same place we watched them last year) at the parking garage and were saddened to discover that the police were not allowing cars to actually PARK on the top. This was Kink #1 in our plan for World Domination Operation Watch Fireworks.

Our familial operations often take on Top Secret Titles. Our code is hard to crack.

Because we were planning to use the truck bed in lieu of lawn chairs, and we had no lawn chairs, we chose the most comfortable-looking patch o' concrete and settled in. Actually, I settled in, Jason stood up, and the little ones took great pleasure in chasing and stomping crickets.

Don't feel sorry for the crickets. They totally had it coming.

Once the fireworks got started, J and I discovered Kink #2 in Operation Watch Fireworks. If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you know that we seated ourselves in front of Over-Enthusiastic Fireworks Commentary Man. OEFCM commented on 89% of the fireworks displayed throughout the 15 minute spectacular.

"Ooooh, that was a green one!"

"Wow, that one was sparkly."

"That one was 3-D!"

(Sidenote: I'm not sure what type of alternate dimension this guy occupied, but pretty much my whole life is in 3-D. Including 100% of the fireworks I've ever had the privilege of viewing.)

"Cool, that one was red and purple."

"Look, that one had a star in it!"

And so on.

I might not have minded so much if he had actually had fresh pyrotechnic material to share. Rather, he just stated the obvious.

Micah declared each firework the new "record-breaker," but I could never get a straight answer from him regarding the standard by which he rated each one.

So the day wasn't fantastic. Please don't mistake my whining about our painfully ordinary day for lack of gratitude for those who sacrificed their lives for the freedom we enjoy every day by God's grace alone. I'm thankful for our independence and for those who protect it daily. Happy (belated) Fourth of July, everyone.


  1. My sister in law and I took our two five year olds to see the fireworks. We sat in our lawnchairs with the kids in the back of my trailblazer. After we sat their chatting for a few minutes we realized that our two children were louder than the 12 passenger van FULL of kids next to us and the pickup truck FULL of kids on the other side. Seriously. In other words, be glad you weren't parked next to us.

  2. I saw your tweets about overenthusiastic man! I cracked up. We sat next to tattooed/smoking/pierced parents of two kids. It was a family affair, ya know.

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