Bottle rockets. Evidently bottle rockets make otherwise normal 24 year old men turn into evil eight year old boys. Black cats, snappers, and roman candles are also effective at turning back the maturing process. Fireworks aren’t bad things in and of themselves, it is all the things that these overgrown boys think to do with them that is the problem.
Place three bottle rockets in a spent roman candle tube and shoot them at innocent friends riding four-wheelers? Sounds like a good idea. No matter that you hit one directly in the chest, only luck keeping it from exploding right then.
Throw snappers at your wife’s sandal clad foot? What a riot. (But this was at least one game that could be played both ways)
Throw lit black cats a foot behind a friend and laugh maniacally when it goes off and he jumps two feet in the air? Ok, I admit that one was pretty funny.
Light fireworks in close proximity to people and skittish pets and singe not one but two dogs fur?* Oops, I don’t think we meant to do that.
So you get the idea. We had a cookout at a friend’s farm full of food, fireworks and four-wheelers. I love alliteration. (I bet Sergio takes that part out.) And it is a good thing that firework holidays only come around once or twice a year. One of us would surely lose a limb if this kept up.
*No pets were really hurt. I don’t think Eliot even noticed he had caught fire except that I was patting him rather roughly on the head and he didn’t seem to be enjoying that.