4th of July.

THE WORST HOLIDAY EVER. EVER. EVER.

I hate the 4th of July.  One reason.  Fireworks.

*Although, let me point out this has nothing to do with our country.  I am all for recognizing America’s birthday and celebrating as a nation.  Just please, not fireworks. Aren’t those Chinese, anyway?

—  Going back to my infant days…I would hide from the big fireworks in the sky.  My family had a boat business so we would always be on the lake watching fireworks for the 4th.  I would be hiding in my dad’s shirt or curled up in a ball in some storage space, crying.

— As a small child, we would watch fireworks from my Grandma’s backyard.  I would stand in her kitchen and watch from the house.

—  As an elementary student, we would spend a few days on my aunt’s farm.  Everywhere I turned, one of my 80 million Mexican cousins would be lighting a smoke bomb, sparkler, bottle rocket, snake…shooting them in the fields or sometimes at each other.  This terrified me.  I felt like something was going to go off at me.  I spent the majority of my time in my aunt’s no-air-condition farmhouse.  One year, I walked outside and I inhaled a smoke bomb on accident.  I couldn’t stop coughing.  Everything burned when I tried to breathe.

—  By the time I was in jr. high, I could handle watching the big fireworks from my grandma’s lawn.  Until it was time to go home and I had to ride my bike back to our house.  I had to dodge neighborhood kids lighting sparklers, bottle rockets, snakes, fountains, you name it.  A simple one block bike ride turned into me walking my bike slowly, up against houses, just praying that no one shoots one near me.

— From high school on, I have no problem watching the big firework shows.  I have held a sparkler or two.  Keeping it as far away from me as I can.

— As a mom, I hate firecrackers even more.  All I see are kids getting hurt on the news.  Children’s Mercy had 50+ kids come in last year from fireworks injuries alone.  They are awful.  They are really not even that great to watch.  It’s kids playing with fire.  If I were a politician, I would make them illegal.  Even the big ones. Everywhere. Not necessary.  (And I’m sure this would not fly with most people…and I’d make a horrible politician.)

— This is my biggest fear.  I always forget about until about a week before the 4th.  I can start to hear kids setting them off in our neighborhood.  It’s like someone pushing an anxiety button in me with every pop.  The smell is the worst.  My heart races the millisecond I smell that gunpowder smell.  I don’t know why.  I never had any huge accident.  I was just born being terrified.

WORST HOLIDAY EVER.

I was hoping Emma or Kate would jump/get scared/cry at the sound of firecrackers going off.  They don’t.  We took the girls to my aunt’s farm on the 3rd.  Emma was hesitant to hold anything but she quickly turned Mexican on me and started making circles with the sparklers and waving smokebombs from her hands.  She wanted to light Scott’s bottle rockets.  That was a quick N-O from me.

I’m glad it’s over.  I’m glad it rained here on the 4th.  I could really do without the holiday.
But I still love America.

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