Last year, my wife got us one of those horrible packs of fireworks with sparklers and snakes and little swishy spouts of colored flame. As a kid, I always wanted rockets and firecrackers and M-80s and pipe bombs. This year, she went to a bloggers’ conference in Savannah, and when she got home she had rockets and firecrackers and M-5000s and this enormous thing in a box. I would have loved this stuff when I was a kid. And when we lit that box, fire rained down from the sky, banshees screamed into the air and terrifying explosions rattled the bones in my chest. It was awesome…if I was a kid. But as an adult, the only thing I could think was, “I’m so going to jail for this shit…”
