Fireworks

Over the past couple of months, Gus got obsessed with fireworks. Two years ago, he was terrified, desperately clinging to me while I got him away from them as quickly as possible. Last year, he seemed to enjoy them. This year, he anxiously anticipated and counted down.

We enjoyed a 4th of July dinner with my family. My 16yo nephew made a festive dessert.
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“You should take my picture.”
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All four of them had matching shirts.
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These two wanted a picture, with Reed batting his eye lashes.
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We also had to light some fireworks off ourselves. Because we’re proud Americans. Only the little stuff, though. My favorite part about this picture is Reed and his cousin on the left side of the frame.
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Gus finally got what he had waited so (im)patiently for. He jumped and danced around, delighting in each explosion.
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It was a rainy day, and most of us huddled under a tarp, while Gus jumped around, loving the rain and the fireworks.
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My mom and several of her grandkids. That’s my nephew with Lyuda in the back– she loves to be cuddling with anyone.
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Gus loved them so, so much.
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So much that when we were done with the city fireworks, we drove around to find a spot to see the fireworks of the amusement park nearby that sets them off. We ended up at the end of someone’s driveway.
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Another night we did sparklers. It was my nephew’s birthday.
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Lyuda was an awesome helper, who made sure the little ones could hold their own sparklers safely.
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Not quite as great as fireworks, but still pretty awesome.
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