
The Hubs and I were talking about 4th of July memories from when we were little.
He remembers being about 5 or 6 and being really scared of the fireworks. That's understandable - since that
might have been the first time he'd ever seen them. His dad was in the Air Force and the Hubs spent much of his first 5 years in Germany.

I remember going with my family to the community college. My parents would spread a blanket on the grass in the football field or over the ample trunk of the old gray Chrysler - I was pretty excited about sitting
on the car. And we would wait.
It seemed like we had to wait
forever. And it was hot. And I always begged for one of those glowy necklace things. (I was probably a lot of fun on the 4th of July. :P Sorry, Mom and Dad.)
Once the fireworks started, I didn't notice the heat so much.

I still love fireworks. Which explains
this. But now that I have money to buy my own glow-in-the-dark stuff, I'm not so interested. Such is life, eh?