My Least Favorite Holiday

So we had this great idea that we'd watch the fireworks with the kids because, yes! Our kids, they love things that go Kaboom! and are not at all scared in anyway by loud noises and fire! Yee-haw!
We're out of our fucking minds.

Let's just start with the fact that where we live, it's just expected that all you have to do to see fireworks for the 4th (2nd, 3rd, 5th and 6th too) is step out your front door because everyone and their brother went to Boom City and spent a paycheck to have the best display and see who could blow up their arm first. What? Your neighbors don't spend every fourth of July trying to blow up more body parts then the guy next to him?
Well.
Aren't you special.

Ours do.
Often at 2 am.
Right outside my fucking window (I'm sorry I'm so cranky. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that the little bit of sleep I'm able to get each night is now being interrupted by the assholes behind us and their need to set our house on fire. Or you know, maybe a little about that).

So, fourth of July. Joe had bought a little box of not so noisy but oooh pretty colors! fireworks and we sat outside to watch him light them up and catch a glimpse at the neighbors spoils.
At first it was fine.
Bre hid behind the van and yelled out that she could see them much better from inside the house thank you very much until we finally convinced her that should any spark even glance in her general direction, Joe would throw himself on it to save her. She then sat in a chair in the driveway and cowered a bit. Yes. Just like last year only with fewer tears.
David was.... unsure at first. He sat in my lap and seemed ok. Even vaguely interested in the pretty pretty colors.
Then our neighbors set off one that was Really. Really. Loud.

"AHHHHHHH!!!!!"

After I pried his fingers from my eyes and calmed him down, he settled back into my lap and pressed his head as far into my chest as he could.

"Cober my ears! Cober my ears!"

And this is why I have no pictures of our fourth of July celebration as I spent the rest of the brief time he was willing to tolerate this with my hands over his ears and trying to interest him in the pretty pretty colors.

He simply looked at me and I'm fairly certain that if his vocabulary allowed he would've informed me that this whole fireworks business fucking sucked and I was nucking futs if I thought for one instant that he was going to actually enjoy this shit. And shove it for good measure.

After 3 roman candles, David was crawling up my head and ripping out my hair begging to be taken back in the house.

So I did.

Joe convinced Bre to stay outside with him if only because it meant that she got to stay up later. Later he told me that she actually held a sparkler for a whole 5 seconds and didn't scream.
And that is progress people.
David came in and went to sleep. I think it may have just been to much. Our dogs were happily sedated (Auggie couldn't even get off the floor) and I was..... jealous. I would love to be sedated right now. Perhaps then I wouldn't mind that our neighbors behind us and the ones across the street are attempting to blow each other up and my house stands in the middle of this fun little battle.

Happy Fucking 4th.