This time of year, as you can well imagine, is big time fun for a houseful of boys.
They started gently pressing me about our fireworks purchase right after the last carnival ticket was gone and before the carnival had rolled out of town. This subtle line of questioning quickly turned into a more aggressive form of badgering by Sunday evening. When our Sunday evening plans did not include a fireworks run, they launched an all out assault on our ears and nervous systems.
“When are we going to get our fireworks? Can we go now? Let’s go now. Come on. Let’s go get fireworks. Please? Please! “
By Monday I had been harassed to the point that I felt I was a victim of Chinese water torture. Every time they asked me about fireworks, it felt like a tiny drop of water dripping right between my eyes. Drip. Drip. Drip. Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore and drove them to our usual firework stand.
Upon arriving at our destination, I noticed that the firework stand did not appear to be open. Bracing myself for the explosion of fiery disappointment, disbelief and dismay that will now erupt inside our vehicle, I mildly state, “Hmm, doesn’t look like it is open.”
Before I can barely stop the suburban, one of the boys has bolted from the car and raced to find out what is going on. When he returns, looking defeated, dejected and depressed, I know I am in for another barrage.
To read the full column, see this week's issue of the Clay County News (7/6/11)