Sunday, July 6, 2008
Excuse me sir, you've grown a second head.
I finally feel like I had a REAL 4th of July. I can move on with my summer. Yesterday was exactly as it should have been *except* for the fact that I didn't succeed in convincing Mom Mom Mare, Poppy, Aunt Barbie, and Uncle Fran to drive the measly 15 extra miles from Poppy's house to Nottingham Park for the Off-The-Hook-Way-Better-Than-Crapadelphia's fireworks show. And as for you Terry and Mario...sitting in the Wawa parking lot watching fireworks on the 4th???? Absolutely not. You missed out on one entire sensory experience, my friends - the feeling of being eaten alive (or at least being used as a landing/launching pad) for the state's largest moths. And well, Uncle T and Aunt Susan, poo to you for leaving early. Even my 3 year partied on the 4th (which was actually the 5th) until it became the 5th (which was actually the 6th). Did everyone follow that? Let's just say he was up well past midnight. But that was ok with me, because once a year, the 5 senses click into overload and it's just not to be missed. It all starts with a smoky barbecue grill puffing it's plumes your way while your belly tells you it's time for a burger (or a chicken strip in my case). Then you taste the fresh fruits of summer, the charcoaled yumminess of the grill, the sweet desserts everyone made which you get to sample - it's all just summer yumminess. Once you're full and can't even think of pulling yourself off of the chair, it's time to lasso that second wind, make a potty run ('cause people the potty sitch at Nottingham is sad, sad, sad...Johnny-On-The-Spot, need I say more?) and load up the car with the essentials. You need beach chairs, blankets, water bottles, and, now here's the critical item needed and you may want to get a pencil and paper - I'll wait.............. Ok. BUG SPRAY. And preferably, industrial-strength, Sam's Club-size. It's just what you'll need. Now, I know you're probably thinking the same thing I am: is that stuff really safe? I think it ALL the time. I barely ever use it because every time I'm about to apply it to myself or to Zeke or to Pauly, I think "ummmm, if this will kill the Peruvian Blacktailed Willowwasp, then maybe it's not so good for my spleen". I usually opt out of the bug spray, live with the occasional hive from the bug bite and go with a sip of Benadryl if the itch gets uncomfortable. My liver thanks me in the morning. But fireworks at Nottingham...well you're dealing with the pros when you go there. The bugs meet all year long, monthly at least, and they talk. They gather information, graphs and pie charts. They KNOW how many of us are coming to their little fireworks display and they disperse their armies accordingly. Last night was no exception. The brigade was out and ready for battle. Some were actually beautiful. But, still, they were of the bug-kind, so they're not my friends. I rule by the "no-kill" policy as much as possible, but let's just say I'm not having the multi-legged over for lunch anytime soon. They know this and I think they secretly harbor hurt feelings over it. They want to know why we humans shoo shoo them. They'll never know and this 4th of July shing-ding is their BIG chance to get back at us. Last night they swarmed, they bombed, and some just sat on shoulders. They even....jumped in my hair. Gasp. What a nightmare. It was mostly moths. Crazy big ones. At one point as we were standing in line to get on the shuttle bus, I did a double take. I couldn't believe my eyes. I saw a man, about 5 people in front of me with a HUGE white moth perched on his cheek. It was so big. I mean, so big that I can't believe he didn't feel it. I picked Zeke up and pointed it out to him and he just took a deep breath and said "wow!" It was like he was witnessing the man growing a second head. It was just amazing. I wanted to tap the man on the back and explain that he was, as we spoke, growing another cranium, but, well, I just didn't feel that I knew him well enough. And, to be quite honest, watching it was a close runner up to the awesomely sweet fireworks we had just witnessed. Nottingham Park fireworks rock. And those moths, well, they're a force to be reckoned with. Let's see what they're battle plan is next year.