The Fourth...

Let me just show you in sparkler writing how much I adore the Fourth of July.  I promise the message will transfer -- sparkler writing is a Universal language, you know.

Sure, I've raved about it in years past.

I mean RAVED.

And this year is no different in my complete affinity for all things Fourth of July in my Richfield.

Except that now I have this little posse of men that can fully dive for candy along the parade route, and catch fish in the famous fish grab, and spray their Daddy-o with a squirt gun in stealth fashion, and point to the night skies at their "bery faborite" colored fireworks... And so, thanks to them, my heart just sort of "sparkles" on the Fourth.  Pun intended.

Like I take snapshots all day in my head... willing myself to remember every detail.

"Oh, they rode their bikes all decorated up Patriotic style on main like they were big shots in the Children's parade --  They'll SO remember this when they're older just like I do!  I mean, it's their first official drag down main street, you know."

"Yes, they are lighting smoke bombs with their Daddy-o, and Grampa Hooky is teaching them to 'rain dance' through the big colorful plumes of smoke and they are just erupting with giggles." 

{Sidenote... it DID actually rain that night.  Just sayin'.}

"Yay, they are tasting Grandma's homemade icecream and then they'll retaste it thanks the film of vanilla sugar that is left on the roof of their mouths... that sensation equals Fourth of July night."

You know what I mean?

My Dad is the original photo bomber.   
And my hubs is the original dimple flasher.
#LuckyLady

These traditions are my traditions from my childhood book and I get to relive them with the RyGar and babes and I just sort of feel like a lucky little Lost Boy who never has to grow up deep in the heart of Never Never Land.  And everyone knows, that place rocks.

Kinda like the fish grab.  Which Kael completely dominated this year.  Little Dax Man had to call in the assistance of his big bro because they, "Just kept swipping out of his hands!"

 

Big brother stepped up, as you can see.  :)

P.S. Speaking of lost boys, we only had one all week long.  That, is no short of a miracle... but it caused a "make your heart pound out of your chest sensation" none the less.  We didn't have to look too long.  In the bounce houses he was, with no ticket, jumping like a happy little man with the paying customers.  Whatever will we do with you stealth little Daximus?

So it went - all weekend long.

A story book of red, white & blue full of heart-swelling pride in my home... my America... my family.

Sun, Family, Water, Stars, Food, Laughing... Not to mention tired kids and sweaty bodies... but really, the sweaty bodies and associated meltdowns were a given, yeah?

Virtual memory book pages of our own version of summer camp were written right before my very eyes.  I hope these things instill strength, adventure, reverence for family & fearlessness to try new things along with a desire to uphold some tradition.  But mostly, I hope these memories-in-the-making are an endless font of happiness for these little men of mine.  Because above all else I want them to be happy.  And happiness, in my experience, is fairly easy to whip up, if you gather the right ingredients.  

And one of those ingredients may or may not be total, unabashed flirtation with each and every pretty girl that passes you by.  He was so happy it made him somersault with joy.  And he kinda stole the show in his little squeaky shoes with his associated "HI BABY!"  Lock up your daughters... that's all.

So, a huge XO to my home town.  And do you know how much I love seeing all my home town friends with their adorable families?  It makes me so happy to wave at you across the street at the parade or say hello to you in the park and know that we all came from the very same amazing place.

And to my parents who always host the summer bash of the year... here it comes, in sparkler writing...

Y'all are rock stars.

Especially on a summer night in July.

Happy Birthday, America.