Wednesday, July 04, 2007

the 4th

Today was July 4, 2007, a day that will not be repeated. It was one of a kind. I spent it with The Child. We didn't party, we didn't barbecue, but we did see The Mayor in the park this morning at the community breakfast in the shelter house. (It's an election year, and this neighborhood's July 4th fest trumps the others scattered throughout the city.)

Our house is situated on the park where today's festivities took place; thus, many of our neighbors hosted parties. Maybe next year, after the child custody case is settled and life is simpler, The Child and I will host a party. Until then, we're better off just rolling with the punches, so to speak.

After the thunderous storm this afternoon, we walked to the soggy soccer fields where huge inflatable games were set up for children. The Child played happily, we hung around with friends from his school, we ate ice cream cones, pizza and funnel cakes, then he got a henna tattoo of the Japanese symbol for "sky."

The Child wanted stink bombs from a vendor in the park. So be it. They were less expensive than most of the things he asks for. He's still upset with me because I refused to take him to the super duper blowout fireworks display last night downtown along with millions of other revellers. Hopefully the stink bombs took the edge off his disappointment. He asked for a whip too (why were they selling whips at a family celebration?) but I drew the line.

The Child, who just completed third grade, informed me that my camera has a 'fireworks" setting. Sure enough, I checked, and it does, and I figured out how to activate it in the nick of time after several minutes of frantic fussing, fumbling with the owner's manual, a flashlight and a magnifying glass (in the dark, no less). We just finished watching these fireworks pictured here.

On July 4, 2007 I learned a new skill (firework photography), enjoyed an outing in our very own park, socialized, finished some paperwork for court during the storm, and got to hang out with one very cool kid who didn't tantrum when I said no to the whip.