Illusions commend themselves to us because they save us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasure instead. We must therefore accept it without complaint when they sometimes collide with a bit of reality against which they are dashed to pieces. ~Sigmund Freud
In my ideal reality, my adult Fourth of July celebrations mimic my childhood Fourth of July celebrations with the slight alteration that I now relive those days of yore vicariously through the peeps. This year, I envisioned the little ladies wide-eyed with amazement, shrieking over sparkling fountains,. savoring the acrid smell of smoke bombs, squashing black snakes with their new sneakers, chasing parachutes.
Not so much.
At the first wisp of deep purple smoke wafting from a smoke bomb, my ideal reality collided with, well, reality. Apparently, the peeps are afraid of all fireworks, including the innocent, seemingly harmless, smoke bomb. Wide-eyed with amazement? Try wide-eyed with terror. Fingers in ears in futile attempts to stop the noise. Oh, there was shrieking, but it wasn't of the giddy-with-excitement variety. More of the, "Why are you subjecting us to this horrible form of torture, o' evil mother figure?" variety.
We celebrated our independence early, on Friday, with Mark's family at Aunt Mary's house. After the smoke bomb incident, which sent the peeps out of their orbit and into hysterics, we (meaning me and the peeps) remained inside. All. Night. The evening consisted of me watching Alvin and the Chipmunks on FX while coming down from a two-glass high of Cupcake Chardonnay. The peeps pinballed between watching the movie, tooting toy horns (rather loudly, I might add. Or maybe that was the Chardonnay talking), and draping themselves in neon necklaces and bracelets. They had a blast.
Don't worry. Not all of my Fourth of July dreams were dashed to pieces. We had a highly successful outing to Toy Story 3, which was the peeps' first time in a movie theater. I got my wide-eyed amazement and my giddy with excitement shrieking. The peeps also walked in a neighborhood parade and snarfed down bowls of homemade ice cream ... for lunch. Our neighborhood goes nuts on the 4th, so the peeps went to bed early that night and avoided another fireworks confrontation. Mark and I spent the evening together on the porch, enjoying the chaos. He drank whiskey; I sipped some (OK, 3 glasses) of Red Bicyclette Pinor Noir. We snacked on graham crackers and mini marshmallows. The height of sophistication, yes?
I think I created a new vision of ideal reality.
BTW, how do you like my Feedjit widget? I just added it today. I stalked the idea from one of my new blog crushes, Green Acres in the City.
oh, lookit that widget... very cool. Don't enjoy your adult only 4th for too long-- I had 2 kids who freaked out at fireworks at that age, too-- and now.. well, let's just say they got over it. Glad your day turned out well-- nothing says God bless America like wine and mini marshmallows!
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