On Friday, I asked if I should keep Mazzy up to see her first fireworks. I got a resounding "yes". We went. Below is her real-time review.
In case the visual does not depict her thoughts clearly enough, I'll translate:
"I don't get it. Why have you brought me to the side of a road in the middle of the nowhere to sit on a lawn chair? Is this what grown-ups do at night when children go to— Oh my god what is that horrible booming sound??!….. Ooooooo—Lights!…. But man, that's really really LOUD!…. Also, something is biting me. Did I mention it's really LOUD?!…. YAWN. Can I have some milk? YOU DIDN'T BRING ANY?! Did you think that because you let me stay up past my bedtime, I would be so grateful that I wouldn't make any of my normal daytime requests? IDIOTS!…. OUCH! LOOOOOOUD!!!!!! Oooooooooo— Lights!!!….. Was there an option to stand farther away from the booming source??…. MILK!!!!!!!!!…. Are the mosquitoes always part of the experience? Cause I am NOT A FAN…..YAWN. It's so LOOOOUD!!! Is this the finale? Cause it seems like they're trying to trick us into thinking we're witnessing something spectacular by using all the crappy lights all at once. And you know what? It makes it even LOOOOOOOOOOOOOUDER!!!!!!!!!!!! Hey— Mom? In the midst of all your excitement in taking me to the fireworks, did you ever stop to consider the damage they could potentially do to my eardrums????"
"Yes, babe. I am thinking that RIGHT NOW."
For the record, last night's fireworks were the loudest I have ever heard in my life. Either that, or having an 18 month-old really skews your perspective on volume.
On a postive note, as soon as we put Mazzy in the car to go home, she applauded.
And then promptly fell asleep.
Happy 4th to me.