Patriotism can be belated. 4th? 7th? Whatev.

I'm a little confused on my days. I've gone into total summer "I don't work or have any reason to get out of bed" mode and have lost all track of time. At Hallmark today, I wished the sales lady to have a nice weekend. I didn't get the reaction I expected and what's shocking is how long it took me to register what went wrong.

It's Tuesday. Tuesday. Tuesday. I'm trying that "repeat to memorize" brain-thing. Not working too well. Maybe I should just hire the announcer from the Monster Truck Rallies. "TODAY IS TUESDAY, TUESDAY, TUESDAY." I'd need him on a daily basis, June to August.

Anyho, I'm a bit delayed on the ol' 4th of July post, hope you can forgive me.

4th of July means family, so my family came over for a BBQ. I was touched they wanted to see us for yet another holiday, but actually it was because we live in the unincorporated part of our county and can legally set off fire works. Awesome. I haven't lit off fireworks since I wore leggings the first time they were popular. Nice to know my family's love can be bought with a few Roman Candles and some Mini-Tanks. Love. I'm such a middle child.

Shelley actually did most of the firework lighting, which was terrifying. When Shelley was 2, she wandered into the kitchen muttering that there was smoke and she put it out. What? Oh, now we see: she had lit several matches on the floor of the guest room and bless her heart, stomped every mini fire out. She can definitely handle gun powder and lighter. I mean, she has a baby. Duh.

She didn't do too bad. Shelley claimed that by lighting the fireworks, she created them. She's very humble.

The winner of Fireworks '09, however, goes to Chuck. Chuck lit off the Roman candles. Not too bad.

But why can't he do one in each hand? Like a crucifix firing. Um, we found out. That answer is no. Chuck put one Roman Candle in each hand, lit them, and then watched as the first fire ball dropped the wrong way and covered his hand in a green flame. Obviously, he had to drop the bad Roman Candle and gently put it in time out on the pavement. Pointed perfectly at my family and our house. Guess what -- dropping a Roman Candle doesn't actually put it out and one fickle ball means 4 more live ones are still nestled inside waiting to be released. And boy were they. The remaining balls shot successively at my family (now running for their lives), sparks and flames flying like beautiful fire flies all over me and my beloved camera, and the balls shooting at our front door. Then, there was Chuck. Helpless to it all. He had to stay in the street, feet firmly planted, watching the good Roman Candle shoot perfectly into the sky, with his in-laws running in terror, his wife getting "sparked" on, and his house under siege.

There was so much laughing, a little pee came out.

Dad went ahead and lit off the rest of the Roman Candles. Chuck got demoted.

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