I forgot this part of the 4th of July. Now that they sell those damn fireworks everywhere, even in Minnesota, you hear them for weeks before and a few days after. I've never liked fireworks. I like the color and the lights but not the noise. Some kids on the next block must have saved their allowance and spent it all on firecrackers.
I don't know if they still sell these but when I was a kid, they sold a little firecracker thing with strings on both ends so they could be tied to doors, etc. and when the unsuspecting person opened the door, bang, you get the crap scared out of you. My brothers tied them to the toilet seat (which was forever in the up position) so when I put it down in the middle of the night, bang. They tied my jeans to the foot of the bed. They tied them on doors and cabinet handles and I don't remember ever getting suspicious. I must have been a very easy target.
Peter just walked in and I asked him if he liked fireworks. He got a big grin on his face and said, "Who doesn't? Loud noises? Fire? Shit that blows up?" It must be a male thing.
If you look at my blog last year for around this time of the year, I probably wrote about this same thing. This and my fear of the fireworks tents.
The reason for my slothfulness this afternoon is that I made a pizza and we're waiting for it to get done. Normally I would be up scrubbing a floor or cleaning out a closet.