Happy 4th!

Oh, yes. The 4th of July. Day of Suburban Mayhem. It's time for flag cakes, cookouts, and running like hell to get the hose when good ol' Dad sets the azaleas on fire with a bottle rocket. And, yes, that really happened. Thirty one years ago today, my dad set the azaleas on fire with a poorly-aimed bottle rocket, leading to a frantic scramble to get to the hose - - which was behind the very same azaleas.

A few years before that, on the Bicentennial, I decided to make my own fireworks upon growing impatient for that part of our family celebration to start. So I dug out a toy gun I had been given for Christmas a couple of years before, that had been languishing in the utility room. It made a convincing noise, and produced "real smoke". Out to the screened porch I went, up onto one of the picnic tables I hopped, and opened fire repeatedly. It made its convincing noise, neighbors started looking around for who had the gun, and Mom made me come inside.

Back to Dad. A couple of years after that, he set off a string of small, red firecrackers and had one mysteriously drift up into the air and POP about three feet right over his head. He nearly sat down in the middle of the street, while Mom and I laughed our behinds off. I might have been rolling on the driveway a bit.

We had the ribs catch fire on the grill one year. They burned to pork charcoal, and for a while our entire screened porch was nothing but a big cloud of smoke. Mom and I made a run to Wifesaver, an Augusta institution, for fried chicken.

And last year, Didgeridoo Boy sprayed a pink spot in my hair with spray paint. (I know I've mentioned this before. I also mentioned this: Mayonnaise gets spray paint out of hair.) He still finds this funny, which I suppose makes him feel safe.

Today, we're going to grill burgers, watch "Jaws", and play with two kinds of sparklers, standard and "Morning Glory". I am hoping for a happy, uneventful holiday free of spray paint, burning azaleas, sneaky firecrackers, flaming grillables, and toy guns scaring the neighbors. I also hope Didge doesn't decide to go streaking wearing sparklers as antlers.

Have a brilliant, fantabulous 4th of July even if it's not celebrated where you are.