Sprinklers and Sparklers

We were a little undecided on what to do for Fourth of July, and our options ultimately came down to: drive 45+ minutes to a church activity or drive 20 minutes to Hen(g)ry's house for food and fireworks. In all fairness, I had heard that the fireworks display that the church put on was pretty awesome (people donate money for the fireworks, and since everything is legal there, it's quite the show), but I wasn't sure I wanted to be driving back that late. Plus, since everything is legal in South Carolina, I knew we'd at least see a few fireworks displays at random houses on our drive home.

If a giant inflatable bald eagle doesn't scream "America!" I don't know what does.

Dave pointed out that it would be rude to show up with only sparklers, so we stopped at a fireworks store on the way. Despite living here for almost two years, this was my first trip into one. Now, fireworks were legal in California when I was younger. But it was limited to sparklers and little things that stayed on the ground (and occasionally shot into the neighbor's yard), and you could only purchase said items from temporary fireworks stands. None of this free-standing-open-year-round business. So I was amazed as we walked into the large store and saw everything you could ever need, ranging from the little things I'd grown up with to giant cannons. We grabbed an assortment of bloomin' roses, Roman candles, and a few other things I don't even remember (sadly, no piccolo petes or friendship pagodas). Mabes insisted on grabbing this weird pyramid with wings, so we got it, even though it looked pretty lame.















We got to the Orton's, and while the men cooked the meat, Des and I watched the kids water the grass/run through the sprinklers. For the rest of the afternoon, Mabes and Henry kept asking if it was time to do fireworks yet. Their questioning seemed less like nagging and more like they were just keeping tabs on us--like they were convinced that when they weren't looking, we'd all sneak off and light off the fireworks without them.


When it was finally dark, we went outside and started with the sparklers while Dave and Lane set off the bigger things. Mabes sat next to me and just squealed, clapped, and jumped up and down shouting that she loved fireworks and Fourth of July. The neighbors had an impressive show going, so we got to enjoy that too. Oh, and Mabes' weird pyramid? Lane was given a box of 4 as he was checking out with his purchases, so between the way it looked and the fact that Lane was given them free, our expectations kept sinking. Lane lit one, sparks started flying and it spun around. Pretty much what we expected. But then all of a sudden, it shot up in the air, sparks trailing, and then exploded. Totally worth the $1--we'll be getting many next year. Or next week.

By the end of the night, the kids were exhausted but happy. We did a few more sparklers before leaving, and somehow a few sparks must have landed on Mabes' chest. She started screaming so I immediately looked at her hand before realizing it was her chest. After some ice she was fine, but being a three-year-old, anytime she talks about Fourth of July, she has to throw in that the sparklers hurt her. She harbors no ill-will, though, and is already asking about when we can do fireworks again. And as expected, we got to see tons of fireworks on our drive home--at least, until we hit the North Carolina border.