The Challenge Ingredient Tonight: Fire
Jul. 5th, 2009 06:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bloodyrosemccoyCats, as you may know, are not particularly impressed with the way we celebrate our constitutional rights. I spent my July 4th in a neighbor’s house, reassuring their cats that the explosions were not going to eat them.
This was a follow-up to a rousing four-hour game of Distract The Small Child Until Bedtime. The kid has gotten more used to the idea that he goes to bed with me there and Mommy shows up after he has slept all night, so it's gotten easier. But I still wanted to wear him out, so there was a tour of his backyard, then across the street for a tour of my backyard and dinner with the family,* and playing cars.
Also, I got to watch the most hilarious small-child Educational Film ever. I forget precisely what it was called, but the basic message of the film was LOOK AT THIS FUCKING FIRE TRUCK. The narrator put on this hilarious gruff voice and would say things like “This isn’t some kids’ game! These firefighters are on a team, but they don’t play on a field! I’d like to see you climb this ten-story ladder, kid!”** It was like watching a cleaned-up badass macro. (“Jesus you know this fire truck will save the fuck out of some shit! And don’t think you can go where the ladder can’t fucking reach you, cuz bitches will inflate a raft like a fucking schoolbus to catch you jesus goddamn.”)
So I missed the usual tradition of setting off fireworks in the street.*** I could see them from the window, but they were a little muffled because of the enormous cat trying to wrap itself around my head. Fortunately, we get to set off more fireworks in a couple of weeks on account of Utah History, which is smarmy and obnoxious and covered up by turns, but which does allow for some fireworks, so I’ll just count those as the rockets’ red glare for me.
Oh, and the strategy to wear the kid out worked. He was out cold through the whole noisy evening.
*Complicated thanks to the kid's allergies. We had some alternative food for him, but following the tradition of preschoolers everywhere, he settled for a dinner consisting entirely of one substance. Ah, hamburger.
**He also said “Think about that the next time you see an elevator, kid!”, to which my small truck-loving companion observed that he had never, in fact, seen an elevator kid.
***A much less unnerving prospect this year because it’s been so soggy. Usually I’m more concerned that some genius will set the entire mountain on fire. It’s happened before. At which point you get the sequel to that kids film, LOOK AT THIS FUCKING WATERBOMBING HELICOPTER. Which is slightly less fun as you pack your things and worry that you'll never see your house again.
This was a follow-up to a rousing four-hour game of Distract The Small Child Until Bedtime. The kid has gotten more used to the idea that he goes to bed with me there and Mommy shows up after he has slept all night, so it's gotten easier. But I still wanted to wear him out, so there was a tour of his backyard, then across the street for a tour of my backyard and dinner with the family,* and playing cars.
Also, I got to watch the most hilarious small-child Educational Film ever. I forget precisely what it was called, but the basic message of the film was LOOK AT THIS FUCKING FIRE TRUCK. The narrator put on this hilarious gruff voice and would say things like “This isn’t some kids’ game! These firefighters are on a team, but they don’t play on a field! I’d like to see you climb this ten-story ladder, kid!”** It was like watching a cleaned-up badass macro. (“Jesus you know this fire truck will save the fuck out of some shit! And don’t think you can go where the ladder can’t fucking reach you, cuz bitches will inflate a raft like a fucking schoolbus to catch you jesus goddamn.”)
So I missed the usual tradition of setting off fireworks in the street.*** I could see them from the window, but they were a little muffled because of the enormous cat trying to wrap itself around my head. Fortunately, we get to set off more fireworks in a couple of weeks on account of Utah History, which is smarmy and obnoxious and covered up by turns, but which does allow for some fireworks, so I’ll just count those as the rockets’ red glare for me.
Oh, and the strategy to wear the kid out worked. He was out cold through the whole noisy evening.
*Complicated thanks to the kid's allergies. We had some alternative food for him, but following the tradition of preschoolers everywhere, he settled for a dinner consisting entirely of one substance. Ah, hamburger.
**He also said “Think about that the next time you see an elevator, kid!”, to which my small truck-loving companion observed that he had never, in fact, seen an elevator kid.
***A much less unnerving prospect this year because it’s been so soggy. Usually I’m more concerned that some genius will set the entire mountain on fire. It’s happened before. At which point you get the sequel to that kids film, LOOK AT THIS FUCKING WATERBOMBING HELICOPTER. Which is slightly less fun as you pack your things and worry that you'll never see your house again.
