It's All Fun and Games Until the Cops Show Up

Last Saturday night as we sat around the fire, eating ourselves sick delicately snacking on S'Mores, Studmuffin suddenly sat straight up in his chair and announced "I think I have a roman candle in the garage!"  And he was already rising and heading to the garage before he got the sentence out.

"Is that legal?"  Popcorn asked with great big eyes.

"No.  It's not."  I gave her (and her father) my no nonsense tone...

Studmuffin came jogging up to the fire pit and then he leaned forward to LIGHT THE STUPID THING IN THE FIRE, while the children ran for the house so they would be safe when the cops showed up.

I sputtered and stammered as I had horrific visions of that stupid thing, left over from July 4th, exploding in his hand...

He simply looked at me with a crazed, "I'm so doing this and nothings going to stop me" look in his eyes.

And the fireworks began.

And then they were over.  And Bookworm came away from the safety of the storm door, laughing with relief that Daddy didn't have a horrific burn from unsafe handling of fireworks, and Popcorn eventually made her way back to the fire sniffling and worrying that the cops were going to come and take Daddy away.

"Oh, Baby.  He won't get arrested.  At most he will have to pay a fine.  Like he had to do a few times before he decided that seat belts weren't really uncomfortable at all." 

She slowly stopped her crying, looked me dead in the eye, and said:

"Do NOT blog this."

I'm not at ALL sure he was remorseful.

Not. At.  All.