go, fireworky, go

When we were talking about the fourth of July before it happened I told Lucy there would be fireworks. She said, "What are fireworks?" Then, she said, "I know! I remember. They are invisible flowers in the sky.

I LOVE fireworks."

We started just at dusk before the sky had fully gone dark.

Seconds after Ilona and I agreed that snuggling with your child while watching fireworks is pretty much the best thing ever I went in to get my camera and returned to find Lucy snuggled up on Ilona's lap. I tried to coax her back over but she said she was very cozy, and patted my arm and told me she would sit on my lap for the next fireworks.

The smell of smoke turned the men giddy, criss-crossing each other and the driveway with lighters and tiny stacks of cardboard and gunpowder. The moms called out for caution, called out in praise of ten digits, but Lucy and Luca chanted, "Go, fireworky, go!" and held blankets to their noses when the smoke came too close.