Day 19: Fireworks

When I was growing up, we spent the fourth of July at our cabin in Nebraska.  We had the biggest and best firework shows there...ever.  My parents must have spent a fortune on things that literally went up in smoke in the matter of seconds.  It was there that I learned to light them off, fire them at my brothers and sisters, and heard the BOOM of m80s, 100s and even 1000s.  My Dad delighted in throwing a package of blackcats at our feet during dinner and I often awoke from my nightly slumber to cracks of fireworks and the peaceful smell of smoke bombs.

(I was going to write about how I literally saw and felt fireworks when I first kissed my husband....I mean it -- it was like the stuff cartoons are made of....but I'll refrain... well, sort of.)