We haven't even set off any of our fireworks yet, but they are already bringing me joy. We stopped on our way home from dinner to pick up a few things, and the first bit of amusement was that we were buying our fireworks from the same lot where we bought our Christmas tree. Gotta love Missouri.
It was also comical to watch Tom run around the tent all excited and googly-eyed about fireworks we could only dream of in Michigan. He was especially excited to buy some of the things that are illegal in our home mitten state, and he gleefully wandered in circles around the tent like a kid in... well... a fireworks store.
The final bit of funny came on the car ride home. I told Tom that I was really excited that we got a bunch of those snapper things that make a popping noise when you throw them on cement. Those are my favorite. I also expressed disappoint, however, that they didn't seem to have another one of my childhood favorites.
"Remember those things that came in strips? And you would put them on the ground or something and smash them with a hammer? And then they made that snapping noise?"
"Um, no." He looked at me, confused.
"You know, they were in the strips. And then the hammer... snaps or something"
"Those were caps. You put them in a cap gun. Didn't you have a cap gun?" He was laughing now.
"A cap gun?"
"Yeah, you're supposed to put those little strips in a cap gun. Then, you fire it, and they make the noise."
"Oh... we never had the gun. So you never used a hammer? Really?"
"But, I mean... other people use their hammers. That's another way to do it."
"So we were pretty country, huh?"
I never knew that we were too poor to afford the cap gun and that my dad had created a whole new game out of the stacks of strips he brought home. I just knew how much I enjoyed beating the crap out of those caps with a hammer on the cement out back. Gotta love my parents!
Thank you, fireworks, you made my day.