For the 4th of July my family went to Kelly's Ford. If you know anything about the Civil War, you'll know something about Kelly's Ford. If not, google it man. You're missing out.
Ok, so I''m not a history buff myself - my history teachers had me asleep in the first 60 seconds of class - but my husband is, and so are 2 of my daughters.
So for a $20 cover charge we were able to listen to probably the most atrocious band I've ever heard. Seriously, they made my ears bleed. I won't go into details but let's just say they've forever ruined Journey and Van Halen.
There were other activities - mostly food (can't go any where in Virginia without a funnel cake) and beer. But there was a moon bounce for the kids which required standing in line for an hour - only to move ahead a foot. I was lucky enough to do this while having the sun beat down on me, surrounded by sweaty, drunk rednecks in the scorcing, humid summer heat.
Definately my idea of fun. Not.
So the fireworks were great at least. 15 minutes of a grand finale. Yeah, it started with the grand finale and sustained that grand finale for 15 minutes. Kind of anti-climatic if you ask me, but the kids were happy.
Then we sat in our car, in the middle of a horse-manuered field for 45 minutes while we waited for people to figure out the traffic pattern. This, of course, meant that traffic did not move, because that patriotic love for country and man we had all felt only minutes ago was now completely eradicated by the selfish need to get home as fast as possible. Screw you in the red Mitsubishi. You ain't cutting in front of me!
After enduring a re-enactment of the Civil war minivan style, we finally got on the highway. At which point, my girls discovered that their glow-in-the-dark nail polish really did glow. They found plenty of enjoyment entertaining themselves on the 45 minute drive home, charging their nails against the light in the van, and then making their hands dance in the air. Over and over again.
Being a kid at heart, I quickly found enjoyment in this since earlier that day my children had insisted on painting my nails too. So I flicked my neon glowing nails in my husband's face while he was driving. Being the great guy that he is, he just smiled and laughed with me. Or maybe it was at me. Hmmmm....
So, I learned a very valuable lesson here. Fireworks are overrated. And when all else fails, invest in a $5 bottle of glow-in-the-dark nailpolish. It may just save your life. Or prevent bleeding ears.