Once a year, however, I cave and we do fireworks. I make Jay buy them because I just can't. We join our neighbors in the center of the cul-de-sac for 30 minutes of loud, smoky fireworks. We have our system down and use our wheelbarrow to clean up the mess and it's all over and everyone is in bed by 10:30.
On July 5th, we awoke to this:
See that yellow stick with the charred ends? It's our push broom! Apparently something was still actively burning when Jay shoveled it into the wheelbarrow and caught our broom, the remaining fireworks and possibly the wheelbarrow on fire. We didn't notice a thing until the next morning. Thank heavens it wasn't windy - I keep picturing a roaring fire out in our front yard that very easily could have turned into a grass/house fire.
Next year, everything gets doused with water, if we even do fireworks at all. Fireworks and me - we're not friends. After his I don't think we ever will be.
2 comments:
Oh, we're doing fireworks. I'm thinking we're going with the aerials that cost $50+ for each shot.
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