"Good morning, how was your day off?"
"It was great, thank you! How about yours?"
"Oh yes, it was very fireworks!"
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Steve's grandma lives literally within rock-throwing distance of the BYU football stadium, which becomes "The Stadium of Fire!" on the 4th of July. Every year, the whole family sits on her front lawn where we have a better view of the fireworks than anyone who actually bought tickets.
I've always loved Independence Day. I love fireworks, hot summer nights, and sitting around on the lawn chatting with family. I love watching my nieces and nephews squeal with delight about how this firework went even higher in the air than the last one and had better colors. Oh, how would life be if my only care in the world was making sure I got to hold just as many sparklers as my brother. It makes me wonder where along the line I lost the child-like sparkle in my eye for exciting things like fireworks.
I held Carter in my lap while we watched the fireworks. Surprisingly, I did more jumping at loud booms and pops than he did, and at one point, I looked down at him just as his entire face lit up with fascination for the flashing lights and colors. In that moment I felt just as much delight for those fireworks as I did when I was six years old. He sat and cooed at those lights for an hour, and all the while I realized that because of him, I get to do it all again. Not just fireworks, but hide and seek, coloring books, and blanket forts. Silly songs, Duck, Duck, Goose, swings, stickers, and sand castles. I now get to watch him light up like a sparkler at all of these things, and I can already tell, the second time around will be even more thrilling.
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