Did you know the Fourth of July is my favorite holiday?

Did you know the Fourth of July is my favorite holiday?  I hold some of the best childhood memories surrounding the Fourth.  There was no fighting over the gifts like at Christmas. Mom wasn’t cranky because she spent all day cooking Thanksgiving dinner. We didn’t have to get up before the sun to make it to a church service I had no desire to attend. Nope, it was the most chill and yet fabulous day of the entire year.

My sister and I would start plotting our fireworks strategy the last day of school in May.  And of course, we started saving for our major purchases right after Christmas.  Dad really got into the Fourth and helping us blow things up, so he'd often add even more to our savings.  Without a doubt, it’s the one holiday that I can remember my dad staying home for all day. Yes, he’d leave on Thanksgiving to fix someone’s clogged toilet. He’d jump at the chance to fix a hot water heater on Christmas. (He was a plumber, in case you hadn't figured it out.)  But the Fourth, he was untouchable.

The three of us - and then four when my brother decided to crash the party - would head out to the school’s after-prom fireworks stand right outside of town where there were no limits.  We could select whatever we could carry in our arms.  Did I mention we would practice carrying all kinds of little things and big things in preparation for the big day? Yeah, we would use a combination of tinker toys, legos and empty Pringles cans to ensure we could carry the most come the big day.

Dad would laugh and tease us.  He’d even get in on the fun picking out some of the craziest new things like chickens that would lay balls of fire.  We then would head home with our bags of loot and spread it out on the driveway where we would plan the family fireworks display.  Once that was in order, we would throw snaps, light off black cats and watch snakes grow.  When those were done, we’d move on to the smoke bombs. Although, mom always made us save a few of them for later in the evening claiming they were great bug repellant.  Personally, I think she just hated the smell.

With our daytime options requiring a flame coming to an end, we would go swimming or help shuck corn for the big BBQ my parents always hosted.  People would always show before the start time to join the fun in the pool or help out.  Around 6:00 pm the burgers and brats would hit the grill.  Mom’s bowl of potato salad would make an entrance and the kids would fight over the deviled eggs.

When we couldn’t eat any more, everyone would anxiously wait for the sun to go down while eating cold slices of watermelon and for the show to begin.  We’d light roman candles, Saturn missiles, fountains, bottle rockets and who knows what else those things were called with our cousins.  Dad would lead the charge and make sure we didn’t hurt one another.  The rest of the family would ooh and aaah like we were really wowing them. Then we’d always end the night with sparklers before heading inside exhausted and sunburned.

Living in the nation’s capitol, I feel sort of deprived when the Fourth rolls around. Ridiculous, I know. One the biggest fireworks displays in the country and yet, I would rather hit a roadside stand and set off roman candles back in small town Kansas. Even if I was to do so today I doubt it would be the same. I don’t talk to my dad.  My sister seldom comes home and my brother would rather hang out with his friends.  And grandpa isn’t there to encourage the things that we knew we shouldn’t do, but he’d cover for. 


But sometimes, it’s just comforting to reflect on the memories.  I hope everyone has a happy and safe three-day weekend!