We used to wait for full darkness to light our sparklers, better, daddy said, to see them
Sizzle against the velvety night sky. Little hands clutched fiery sticks, frantically spouting
Brilliant illuminations of red, white, and blue in a dangerously fun display of patriotic
Zeal. The big fireworks followed: bottle rockets, Roman candles, fountains and snakes.
Daddy always lit the firecrackers. Bundled black cats rat-a-tat-tatting like Al Capone’s
Mob kicked off the show. Momma clutched me close, but she didn’t have to fret. My natural
Self-preservation instincts won the night. I was happy to watch the show within her grasp.
Praying for Eyebrowz 