The morning after

Though it ended up being just the boys and I participating and watching our home-based fireworks show last night we still had an excellent time. It’s funny but there seems to be a transformation that happens in a kid’s mind (or at least in my kids’ minds) somewhere between 5 and 10 years of age where loud booming noises and the idea of blowing stuff up goes from being scary to being their ideal way of having fun. Destructive little buggers they are! Max shot video on my phone of the last two things we set off so that he could show his mom this morning (Jen was feeling under the weather last night) and you could here the boys cheering after the more garish explosions. The video of course also showed their father sprinting spastically back to relative safety each time I lit a fuse too.

I confess to feeling a little nervous when I first heard the plastic remains of the whistle rockets bouncing off the Arena’s metal roof but man was that fun! We spent about half an hour this morning collecting the remains of the various boxes we fired, some of which had ended up a solid 200′ downhill from where we set the things off. While begging the forgiveness of the female group that lives in the paddock adjacent to the parking lot up there, there are nonetheless plans for a sequel…only 364 days to go.