Fireworks Go Boom!

I think I’m coming down with something because I’m yawning as I write this and I’m going straight to bed when it’s done.  God bless the inventor of the foam-temperpedic hybrid mattress.  

Frank and Adriana came up for the holiday weekend and we had a nice time.  I hope those two will work out.  One thing, though; Frank doesn’t realize how opinionated he is, and how that trait grates on people like his girlfriend.  The wife and I caught a few eye rolls and sighs of exasperation.  Maybe Frank is insecure, but he’d do himself a favor if he realized that he doesn’t need to prove his knowledge at every opportunity (Almost as soon as he got in the door he saw Amanda feeding the dogs and began lecturing her on the evils of prepared dog food).

Yesterday was July 4th, Independence Day for we in the States, when as a celebration of our nation we blow shit up real good (and outsiders wonder why our culture seethes with violence).  We had a good time, staking out our usual spot in Durham near the ice cream truck — for the kids, man, for the children — at least most of us did.  Once the kaboomies began, my poor son hid in terror from the rocket’s red glare.  Amanda and I did our best to sooth him, but he just buried his head in the blanket until the light and sound assault was over.  What was that poem by Sheryl Savageau about seeing fireworks when she was a child?  I’m too tired to look it up now, but that was a good one, and she was a real sweetheart.  I wonder if she’s any relation to Shirley?