fireworks

Went to the fireworks Saturday night at a small airport near my parents' house. It's nice to go there because my dad and brother are among the firefighters working at the event, so we get to stake out a great area right along one of the runways. It's not crowded, so the boys can play pretty freely. There's sort of a mini carnival atmosphere. Bethany and Joe took the boys to ride on a huge bouncy slide and get sno-cones, which they really loved (both, but especially the sno-cones).




We all brought food and had a lovely cookout, then once it got dark, we watched the show. The boys were thrilled. They oohed and ahed at every firework. They even gave names to some of them. "That one looks like popcorn!" "Look, it's an octopus!" It was funny because there is no musical accompaniment to this show, and the boys were really loud, so I could hear people giggling at them from down the way. At one point, I said something to my mom about not being used to being at fireworks shows with no music. She looked at the boys (who were again oohing excitedly), grinned, and said, "I like their music just fine."



After the show was not so great. I turned my back for a minute to help Liam find Mike, and when I turned back, Max was gone. It was 11 p.m. and pitch black except for the headlights of all the cars trying to get out. We were all searching and calling for him for a few of the scariest minutes of my life, and finally Klaudia found him. He had run toward the tarmac where all of the cars and trucks were queuing up for the exit. (That's also where my dad and brother were, helping direct traffic with the other firefighters, so I like to think they would have spotted him if Klaudia hadn't.) Needless to say, once we had Max back, we hustled out to the car, and didn't let him out of our grasp until he was safely at home and asleep.