the voorst of july.

we didn't really do anything stereotypically fourth-of-july-y on the fourth.  there wasn't a parade, the fireworks were in another town and not until saturday, we don't have an above-ground pool, and my kids are too young to get trashed in the name of patriotism.  so we did what any other countercultural family would do: we ate hot dogs with some friends, forced our kids to play with sparklers against their will, and had all our minors in bed by 7:30 p.m.  WOOHOO!

we started off the night bbq-ing it up with our friends/upstairs neighbors/host family (i like having a reason to use the vocabulary of a foreign exchange student!) and a woman affectionately known as Grandma Pumpkin.  we then busted out the sparklers, which we thought the kids would love.  instead, the predictable-if-i-had-thought-about-it-realistically happened: atticus spent the entire time holding his sparkler as far away from his body as possible, saying, 'i don't want to do this anymore.  i don't want this.  i'm done.  i don't want to do this anymore.'  once his sparkler was burned out, he wandered off to find a patch of dirt to dig in.  penelope, on the other hand (and again, predictably), held her sparkler out in front of her, stuck out her tongue like a maniac, and apparently pretended to stir some kind of imaginary pot.  my kids are nothing if not true to form.

 

not too sure about holding a stick of shooting fire.  i guess it's understandable.

 

 

much more up his alley.

 

 

she's a little more into it.

 

 

okay, maybe it's not so bad...

 

 

 

after the requisite sparkler-ing, the kids spent a little time swinging, then we busted out the cake, which atticus had a much easier time getting on board with.

 

 

and that was our fourth of july.  'and i'm proud to be an american, where at least i know there's cake...'