…through the eyes of a 6 year old.

Sunday I noticed the younger kids just being a tad antagonistic toward each other, so I decided that they needed to get out of the house and spend some energy. Plus the weather was gorgeous, and I really didn’t want to be indoors myself. I randomly chose Kansas City’s Country Club Plaza. It’s a great place to get an ice cream cone and just stroll around. On Sunday afternoons throughout the summer, various musical groups play live at different spots around the Plaza’s four or so blocks.

We were there for the atmosphere, but there was one store I really had to go in. Anthropologie is a constant source or cheery inspiration. For a few minutes, the kids were patient as I looked around.  But they started to get bored in the store. My 9 year old asked to take a few photos with the camera. I thought it would a great idea and a way for him to entertained while I continued soaking up the environment. Of course, if the the 9 year old got to do it, then the 6 year old wanted to also. So, I put the camera on a automatic setting, passed it to him, showed him what button to push, and an artist was born.

He took around 20 photos inside Anthropologie, even of people that he did not know. But everyone seemed to enjoy this little 6 year old snapping the shutter and giggling. (Or maybe they were too polite to say anything)

He loved this chair.  And the doors. An artist in the making, I tell you….

I gave him no pointers; made no suggestions. It was all him. I think children are more observant than we give them credit for, and he certainly had a good time. He also met and talked to lots of people, showing them their photos that he had taken.

Of course, no boy’s photo shoot would be complete without shots of different sets of wheels…

All the photos are un-edited, straight out of the camera.  He was still going strong when it was time to leave. I think for future events, we’ll just give the camera to him and tell him to have at it.

Whew! How’s that for alliteration?

Things have been busy around these parts.  Most notably, I brought a little souvenir home from my vacation. A little stowaway named Mycoplasma pneumoniae, which probably hitched a ride on my bronchial tubes from the recirculated and poorly, if at all, filtered air on the airplane. For the past two weeks we have coughed and fevered our way through the day. I am all for natural remedies, but am also very grateful for modern antibiotics when they are truly needed.

Anyway, the jist of all this is that I have all these wonderful beach photos burning a hole in my hard drive and not enough time to get them posted with all the associated stories. Suffice it to say, I had a marvelous time. And now that I am well and rested, I am really beginning to feel the challenge of being landlocked again. I will post more beach photos and stories in the future, but for now, let me leave with this parting shot.

Just takes me back every time I look at it……

On to The Bang…Out here in the midwest in our small ( used to be small anyway) rural suburb, fireworks are legal. just about everything except bottle rockets can be fired off from the comfort of your own lawn chair in your own yard, or street-front in our case. This was our ninth year celebrating with our wonderful neighbors. Some folks aren’t home of course, but a lot of us are. We all pull out our lawn chairs and our stash of pyrotechnics and everyone goes at it for hours. The great thing is that when someone inevitably has to use the bathroom, he can run into his own home and do so. Or get a drink. Or a popsicle. Or more corn on the cob….It’s so convenient, I’m not sure I could ever go back to hauling everyone with blankets, lawn chairs, and a cooler of drinks and snacks to a show, get there early to get a good seat, wait around for hours till night falls and the show starts, then see 20-30 minutes of fireworks. Though I admit professional displays are spectacular, the backyard show is for me.

Usually, we have some discussion of the reason we celebrate this Holiday. Last year we read the Declaration of Independence. We took turns reading off each infraction of King George that the colonists had listed. I was surprised there were so many! Have you ever read the entire document? Every one should. Then we talked about what it cost those men to sign that document. And, of course, their families suffered too. Another summer, we listened to 1776 by David McCullough while traveling back from Virginia. Speaking of Virginia, we have visited Yorktown Battlefield and Colonial Williamsburg. I really want my kids to know that it’s not just about the fireworks.

But the reality is that they have an xy chromosomal set-up and are therefore, naturally pre-disposed to LOVE anything that glows, explodes, is really loud, and a little bit dangerous. They are drawn to pyrotechnics like flies to luke warm hamburgers sitting on the picnic table. It is IMPOSSIBLE for a boy to resist fireworks. There. I have done my duty and forewarned all you moms of sons out there.  Though most of you have probably already discovered this. And they can be taught to handle them with RESPECT. Luckily, Dad oversees all the insan… I mean safety issues.

Here they are. Little Dynamites aplenty. They are just getting warmed up while waiting for night to fall.

Our neighbor with a couple of his many laser pointers, shining them through the smoke.

Our gang across the street in our neighbor’s driveway.  The folks that live behind me put on one heckuva show every year. This year, we finally figured out that if we sit in our neighbor’s driveway,we can see the whole block a lot better.

Like this.

And this.

And even this!

Pretty much our whole neighborhood puts on a first-class show. And when it’s all over, everyone turns out with brooms to help sweep up the street and gather all the spent fireworks.  What’s more American than that.

Have a Blessed year everyone, and don’t forget to be grateful for the freedoms we have, and grateful to those who fight for them. Thanks, Dad.

“This we will defend”- United States Army Motto.