So last night the Hubs took the girls around the neighborhood to see all the amateur neighborhood pyrotechnics' at play.
Might I say the temp was a bit nippy. So I stayed home with the boys and we watched from the front porch.
The booms, and grand sha-bangs went on and on and on from late afternoon to midnight. Around dinner time we had to chase our noise crazed dog down, actually a generous spirit brought her to our door. Poor Itchy can’t stand the Fireworks and I forgot to bring her inside when the Crackers started to be lit off around the neighborhood in the late afternoon.
For dinner we loaded the kids with Watermelon, Corn-on-the-Cob, Chips, and Hot Dogs! You know, real healthy patriotic food. Hope loved it and was proudly displaying her gorged stomach right before walking around the neighborhood with Dad.
When they came home we sent the kiddo’s to bed but let Hope crawl in bed with us as we watched the Big City’s display on our little, itty-bitty TV screen.
Then came the real show. Prince Erik started yelling something incoherent dealing with my name and by the time I turned my head in his direction I caught the tail end of Hope empting her dinner all over him and our bed. Oh (Sarcastic) Joy! Have to say that I’m a bit glad he was the target and not myself.
Well, Prince Erik has told me I have to eat my words. See a couple of weeks ago I had to mention that our 4–year–old was a better sickie than he was.
This much I can say, I didn’t hear it coming. So she definitely is a quieter sick person than my husband. And even though she had us up nearly every hour last night, you know, with losing more out of one end or the other – she always made it to the bathroom after the first initial explosion.
So I say it’s a draw. That and her up-chuck doesn’t smell nearly as bad as Prince Erik’s, nor does she complain as much. So I’m not going to eat my words just yet. But it did make for a very sleepy day today. Thankfully I got a nap.