Friday, July 10, 2009

Rocket's Red Glare


So how did you spend the Fourth of July? Around my house the day can consist of just about anything. From time at the pool, to working on the house, to cookouts, to fireworks, it's usually a pretty fun day. This year was no exception.

By some act of Congress, both of my girls were off of work and available the evening of the 4th so we decided on a bar-be-que, followed by fireworks. My two year old grandson is intrigued by fireworks and will even tell you he likes fireworks, right up until the time it gets dark. So rather than trek to a public fireworks show where there are 1) massive numbers of people 2) a line of cars that can stretch the Grand Canyon 3) too few bathrooms and 4) a panic stricken toddler, we settled on fireworks at home.

Here in Georgia, the good fireworks are illegal so I purchased $ 40 worth of the legal stuff and came home feeling pretty good about myself. Sil (son-in-law) took one look at my purchase and yawned. He wanted to have nothing to do with this lack of fire power so he and daughter #2 took off for Alabama. Three hours and $ 200 later I had enough explosives in my garage to damage any Federal building.

As dusk fell upon my humble abode, I grabbed my "baby grand" and popped in his latest Disney favorite. We opened the blinds so we could see the grandstand that my children had assembled. They took my lawn furniture, cooler, flame thrower and fireworks and set up camp. My neighbors came out to witness this spectacular show as I was listening to the strains of the Aristocats. Ooooo, Ahhhhh - the fireworks had begun.

About 15 minutes into the show, I hear high pitched voices, followed by expletives, men yelling and feet pounding. I see flaming balls of fire coming over the banister of my front porch. About this time my daughters and niece come charging into the house - almost hysterical. It seems that one of the fireworks that Sil purchased became unbalanced and tipped over. As the grass in my neighbors yard (not the neighbors that were watching the spectacular but the neighbor that always calls the police) began to burn Sil and Sidekick run to put it out. As fate would have it, at that time the rouge firework spun and began shooting at my house, my children, my neighbors, our cars and the grandstand. # 2 swears one went between her legs as she was running, Sidekicks' truck was hit, my neighbors had taken cover behind that very same truck, etc., As I step out my front door to access the damage, # 2 yells that one of my lawn chairs is on fire. She extinguishes the fire with a beer, I take a headcount, turn on my garden hose for insurance purposes and retreat to my seat on the sofa. About this time Baby Grand looks at me and tells me he "no likes" fireworks. You know what Jack? I'm not sure I like them anymore either.

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