Something Magical

There is something so magical about fireworks. Perhaps it is the variety of colors and shapes or the ear-piercing sounds they make. Or maybe it is because the average American has the opportunity to play with pyrotechnics. Either way you look at it, they are pretty spectacular.

This past 4th of July could perhaps be one of the best. Yes, there was homemade ice cream by the gallons and enough smoked pork butt to feed an army, but this year my family put on a fireworks show that could have rivaled Gettysburg. Shoot, some of the explosives may have even been illegal. But do I care? Nope. Just as long as I didn't have to post bail for anyone.

And the best part about the whole show was that parking was free and everyone had a front row seat.

Even the kids loved it.

Remember this guy? Yeah, he's still happy.

And this dude? Well he could have cared less that he had drool on his chin. What's a little drool when you have atom bombs exploding in your driveway?

And this fella tried his best to multi-task: playing with sparklers while having one hand ready for the next loud one. Ingenious.

There were small explosives...

Large explosives...

Portable explosives...

Beautiful explosives...

Near-death experiences with explosives...

Large amounts of explosives...

And ones that made you stop and pause. I especially like that this all happened right next to a church. We like to invite God to all of our pyrotechnic parties.

And when you top off this night with my aunt Marge's homemade hot fudge sauce, well, there are no words really. It doesn't get any better, especially since everyone still has all of their digits.