adventuring

At seven-thirty on the Fourth of July, after an afternoon swimming at my mom’s, I dragged Chipmunk out of the house for a totally totally awesome awesome fireworks adventure.

Already half-aggravated by some spaz-out he pulled just before leaving, I took a deep breath, rolled down all the windows and the sunroof (my husband prefers having the air conditioner one) and announced, “We’re going on an adventure, just you and me!”

We cut through the humid evening air toward downtown.

“Are we going to Tampa?,” he asked. (That’s where we saw fireworks in February.)

“No, we’re going to downtown St. Petersburg.”

As we walked about half a mile to the basin from our car, he asked, “Is the wind gonna get the sweaties off us?”

(It didn’t.)

We saw traffic, four “police mans,” a few thousand drunk people, and a lot of annoyed babies. We bought bottled water and an apple juice at a corner store. We watched my sister run the hostess stand at a crowded restaurant, listened to a jazz band, and met an old dude with a Margarita when my son reached over to try to steal the limes off it.

We bought two glowing necklaces. He asked for a pink one, and I got a neon green one. Then I sat on the sidewalk and pulled him into my lap for a picture.We both jumped when the fireworks started.

Then he spotted a young toddler with a helicopter push toy.

When the finale ended, we ran across the street and darted past people on a sidewalk. He giggled and trotted beside me in his bright green Crocs, and by the time we got back to our car we were the first ones to the lot. The drive home wasn’t too bad, and we played “I spy fireworks!”



Three has been challenging. But despite the challenges, we have exciting developments like conversation! and leaving house without a diaper bag!

And I love you Mama, you’re my best buddy.