morning

a) my perfect dog is not afraid of fireworks

b) l loves fireworks so we drive out to a lot outside the expo to watch the show. we spread out blankets and play the animal game, which then morphs into the movie game, waiting til dark. we watch the smaller illicit shows put on in the distance, talk about whether fireworks might be done away with in our lifetime, look up how long they’ve been around

c) we’ve lucked into the perfect spot, we all name our favorite type of firework, we watch the spectacle. my parents lay down, mom on dad’s lap, dad’s head using our empty cookie box as a pillow

d) it takes an hour to get home, stuck in the sea of cars in both directions. what’s more american than that

e) penny is so happy we’re home. e, l, and i take her out for a night walk, my parents go to bed. my perfect dog is not afraid of fireworks

f) a night walk means walking in the middle of the street. we talk core memories. l and i walk into the short stop, still open, door propped wide in the dark. the radio station playing calls back to our roots - a tom petty song starts. we each pull a pabst from the fridge, i grab some candy, we walk back into the night where e and penny are waiting. we cheers and crack open our tall boys as we head back home

g) e goes to bed. l and i stay up sipping our beers, watching music videos and whispering, giggling and buying movie tickets in the middle of the night. my perfect dog is more bothered by our hushed chattering, our tv glow, than the irregular booms outside, lets us know with long-suffering sighs. don’t we know it’s bedtime?