Here Comes the Boom
Firework-intensive holidays have never been my favorite, but now as a mother of boys, I loathe them even more. I have good reason. There was that one time when a couple of defective mortars shot towards our house and exploded at my feet, leaving my ears ringing and my nerves shaken for the rest of the night. Then this year, one of the members of our household (I'll give you a hint; it wasn't one of the kids) set off a grenade firecracker the wrong way and ended up with a badly burned thumb. And not to mention all the years we were forced to stay at home on the 4th of July with a PTSD-riddled giant of a dog so he wouldn't demolish the bathroom door. The real worry for me is the pure glee, that Christmas-morning twinkle in the eyes of my boys as we set them loose in the fireworks store. Fireworks packaging features romance names like "Wolf Pack", "Mineshell Mayhem", "Exterminator" and more, the making their selection not unlike a g...