Fireworks
posted in Frenzied Daddy |Friday was the opening of the Rose Festival and they opened with a
bang! When times like this happen, I’m always reminded of Fur Rendesvous in Anchorage. I grew up in Anchorage, and every year we had the Fur Rondy, and every year Dad took us to the carnival in the snow, the art displays, and the usual stuff. And every time that I see fireworks now, I’m reminded of the evenings we spent laying on the top of the station wagon watching fireworks in Anchorage.
So Friday evening, I turned to the kid and asked “So, kid. Do you wanna go see fireworks tonight?” She smiled and agreed that perhaps fireworks might be fun to go see. Brookes wasn’t feeling up to going out (this pregnancy thing is a real drain on her energy level), so it was just the child and myself.
We parked down by OMSI and walked toward the new Esplanade, with out chair, our umbrella and our blanket. As it turned out, it didn’t rain enough for the umbrella.
The fireworks were awesome. But it was dramatic to me the difference between taking a three year old and taking a six year old to the show; she stayed up for the show, she was helpful carrying and toting, and she was thrilled. She went from a soft “woah” to stunned silence. The fireworks were smoky and we could smell the chemicals; sometimes we couldn’t see the actual explosions, just lights in the smoke. But it was definately a success. 
