Along the Way: A Fireworks Fourth

"Mason, would you like to set off some firecrackers?" asked his dad.

"No, I'm too scarwed," was his reply.

I know what you're thinking. Teaching a seven year old to light fireworks is extremely irresponsible...blah, blah, blah. But you have to understand the culture from which my husband's family originated. In the hills of southern Missouri, fireworks on the Fourth are as American as...well...fireworks on the Fourth. One of hubby's earliest memories is of his little five year old sister placing a Lady Finger in Cousin Gary's back pocket and lighting it. (The relationship between the two remained contentious for years.) Then there was the summer when hubby devoted two months to setting up his own stand in Joplin. The proceeds of that enterprise represented a fortune to a preteen in the 60's.

So you see, it came as no surprise when Uncle Dick suggested that he and his nephew, Mitch check out the local fireworks stand at 5:00 pm on the Fourth to see if the owner was ready to "deal." They returned with enough night works for a half hour show and several bags of extra goodies.

"What's in the sacks?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

Hubby winked. "Just something to keep the kids occupied until it's dark."

I knew who the biggest kid was--he had celebrated his 60th birthday this past fall. As it turned out we had a few fireworks novices in the family, and hubby was a willing teacher. Uncle Dick coaxed Mason into "helping" him light some bottle rockets,

and then quickly schooled him on the art of igniting the more touchy firecrackers.

Before long, pops and whistles filled the air in the McDonald's yard. Nieces and nephews, moms and dads, aunts and uncles delighted in blowing things up.

Just as munitions were beginning to run low, the sun finally began it's descent. Like butter on pancakes, it melted on the horizon.

Finally! It was time for the "Grand Finally."

Two of the nephews set the stage on the country highway that runs along the edge of the farm. They began with the lower ground works

then progressed to the skyworks, the starbursts, the cascades, the sizzling sparklers. All too soon, the show was over.

The lessons learned, however remain for a lifetime:

     The fuses on Black Cats are much shorter these days than they used to be.

     No matter how much your fingers are stinging, never, ever lay down a lit punk on the table holding the fireworks!

     You can't put a price tag on family.
And...
     You're never too old to enjoy blowing something up.