July 4: Cooked, Baked, and Ready for Fireworks

Since this morning, I have spent about six hours cooking in the sun, watching parades.  I have seen enough dump trucks and Model A's and firetrucks to last me for the rest of the year.  With the sun baking my brain that long, I don't have a lot of thoughts that aren't charbroiled.

Tonight, I may be going to the fireworks.  It depends upon my three-year-old son.  If he's too tired, I will not be dragging his little butt to the fireworks.  If he's out-of-control tired, I will not be dragging his little butt to the fireworks.  If he's whining-and-crying tired, I will not be dragging his little butt to the fireworks.  If it sounds like I'm not going to the fireworks, I'm not sure.

Saint Marty isn't feeling very festive at the moment.  He's feeling like a piece of barbecued chicken.

Too much time in the sun today