Boom Boom Pow

After the umpteenth (translation 3rd) mention of my lack of blog activity from various in-laws this weekend, I have decided to teach them a lesson. Rather than interact with them, I will deny them the privilege of my presence in order to blog.

It's their loss really. If you like blog-Ben, you'd love actual-Ben...if I do say so myself. Though it does appear the family is getting along just fine without me...not missing me at all. I wonder if they actually read my blog...or are they simply trying to get rid of me? I'm on to their underhanded tricks.

Growing up, the 4th of July was an anticlimactic affair. My family would grill burgers, drink kool-aid, and the Newhouse kids would bug the living hell out of my father to let us buy fireworks. And by fireworks, I mean sparklers and poppers--fireworks lite, if you will. But back then, it was awesome...until I realized that July in Texas is hot and mosquitoes found me especially tasty.

Needless to say, my childhood did not prepare me for the event that is the 4th of July with my wife's family. You see, my father-in-law loves fireworks. Actually, that's the understatement of the year. My FIL is the proverbial kid in a candy store at a fireworks stand. The first time I accompanied him, I was charged by my then future mother-in-law to keep him in check. With my frame of reference, that would be no problem. $25 max and we'd be on our way. I was so naive...and destined for failure.

We entered the store, and we headed straight toward the big stuff. Within five minutes we had surpassed "keeping him in check" territory. Being new to the family, I was hoping to make a good impression with my MIL. Clearly, that wasn't going to be happening this afternoon. By that evening, however, the shame of my failure was replaced with awe. FIREWORKS WERE AWESOME!

Since that initial show, I have only feigned mild resolve at keeping my FIL in check. Actually, the last time I gave that role much effort, I thought we were going to come to blows. Now, I am simply a fireworks enabler, insisting we go bigger, better, louder each year. It's ridiculous, really...ridiculously awesome.

This year, the show was no exception. We held the 4th early (the calendar be damned), and despite some near misses with a stray homicidal artillery shell, fun was had by all. Now, I just have to convince my MIL that a suburban full of fireworks only costs $25.