Fireworks Scrooge

I know a lot of people out there love backyard fireworks. They’re festive, they’re fun, and you get the added bonus of never knowing when a finger might get blown off. It’s a feast of anticipatory fun. I get it.

fireworksI know that I sound like an Independence Day Scrooge, but I hate backyard fireworks. Big city displays? Fantastic – bring ’em on. But the bottle rockets and cherry bombs lit under my children’s windows by overly incendiary neighbors? Those make me STABBY.

Okay, so they weren’t directly under the boys’ window. But still – take a gander at my 4th of July evening before you get too judgmental.

10pm: I go to the bed in the guest room so the freaked-out dogs can sleep with me vs. keeping us up with panicky panting and pacing throughout the night.

Midnight: Fireworks wake up Cade, who cries like the fireworks are being dropped onto his head. This wakes up Grady, who isn’t sure why he should be crying, but starts sobbing anyway in the spirit of brotherly solidarity. Twenty minutes of coddling and reassurance later, they go back to sleep. Then I go back to sleep.

1:00am: Cade creeps into my room. Effing fireworks have woken him up again. I escort him back to bed with some hugs and a second helping of reassurance. Dogs still freaked out.

2:00am: Cade decides that enough is enough and tries to climb in bed with me once again. This time I’m too tired to send him back to bed, so I let him sleep with me.

4:30am: Grady wakes up and realizes he’s alone. This is never a good thing. He ascends

I guarantee you our dog/childpile looked nothing like this. Is that kid sleeping in TUXEDO? Who does that?

I guarantee you our dog/childpile looked nothing like this. Is that kid sleeping in TUXEDO? Who does that?

the stairs to find me and crawls into bed. But not to sleep. Mommy, Cade and the dogs are all in one bed. Party time! I silently pray for an illness that renders me unconscious for at least three days. I’m entirely too healthy for my own good.

5:00am: I give up and we all start the day. I wake Corey up at 6:00 so he can take over and I can get a nap. You know, a nap at 6:00am. That’s normal, right?

Call me a holiday Scrooge, call me no fun. But please, don’t call me before 6:00am. Shhhhh…I’m still catching up on my sleep.

Damn backyard fireworks.

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4 Responses to Fireworks Scrooge

  1. aviets says:

    Couldn’t agree more. Totally antisocial behavior. I hope you got some sleep on the fifth.
    -Amy at

  2. Allie P. says:

    I don’t mind the neighborhood fireworks. It saves me the cost of parking and I don’t have to haul my children downtown, but fireworks after 11pm is flat out rude! (10:00 is pushing it)

  3. Melissa Papasavvas says:

    I totally agree! I can’t stand those silly little neighborhood firecrackers!! Honestly, what’s the point other than to entertain the one person setting them off and annoy everyone else in ear-shot? Love the big fireworks displays, but then go home and let your neighbors sleep! bah humbug! 😉

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