Somebody woke up rarin’ to go the morning of the 4th and who can blame him? In our family, the 4th of July means GAME ON and Travis didn’t want to miss a single minute of it.
I, too, was ready. I’d seen some a red/white/blue tie dye t-shirt project on Pinterest and decided that it would be the perfect for the boys to wear
since they are now fourteen and get really excited about their mother dressing them identically so with a quick trip to Walmart for supplies, Project Patriotic was underway.
Up to this point, the process went as smoothly and stress-free as dealing with massive quantities of permanently-staining liquid in your mother’s house with white floors and a white sink can go.
And then we washed the shirts.
And one of my kids who shall remain nameless
but we can all tell who it is refused to wear lilac to the gathering so it wasn’t quite the picture perfect project I’d envisioned but, hey, at least the boys have another story they can tell their kids one day.
The whole family converged at my brother’s house. My nephew and his wife (remember they got married last year?) were there with a few of their friends and my other nephew brought his darling girlfriend so we had a house FULL of people but it was so much fun visiting, splashing in the pool, playing horseshoes, fishing, driving the golf cart (otherwise known as surviving JJ’s first attempt at steering something other than a bumper car), and eating, eating, eating.
And then it was time for the big show. My brothers, like most boys I know, have a great love for blowing things up and the 4th of July (and Christmas, and New Year’s Eve, and a Tuesday) is tailor-made for indulging their penchant. We set up camp on the driveway and with the open prairie and inky black sky as a backdrop, Paul and Jonathan took over and patiently managed the horde of kids wanting a turn.
And, fortunately, we only had two minor mishaps with an errant firecracker appropriately called the Zipper that zoomed its way toward innocent bystanders but, really, what’s a holiday without a pack of frozen peas nursing a burn and we laughed and oohed and aahed and told stories and remembered and sprayed bug spray and fellowshipped, and, friends, that’s what life and family is all about. I drove the boys back home in the late, late, hours hearing their murmurs of “I wish every day could be like this” and after getting them in bed, my head hit the pillow with a contented sigh.
Tired body, happy, happy soul.
Have a nice day.