In honor of it being the fourth of July, and since it is monday and thus a personal story day, I decided I’d tell you the story of how I got a scar on the bottom of my foot by being burnt by a firework.
Let me set the scene. This was ten or eleven years ago, I was five or six. My cousin (you all know her as Scribblebabble) was around three or four. We were little you know?
And because it was the fourth of July, we were at her house to do fireworks. Now, either our parents weren’t paying attention, or they just didn’t think it through, but they let me go outside wearing sandals. And well, they don’t go well with the fireworks.
While my uncle (her dad) was setting up the actual fireworks, her grandpa gave us those popping-fire-cracker things, not sure what they are called, you throw them on the ground and they spark). Me and Chelsea loved them. But, Chelsea couldn’t throw them with enough force to pop. I think you can see wear this is going.
So, I’m wearing sandals, and I am clumsy enough that I kept nearly falling because I would have the front of the sandal flip under my foot. And at one of these times, I stepped on one of the un-popped fire-crackers…and popped it. It popped against my foot and while I was mostly fine, it hurt like hell. So, I tried to set her on fire with a sparkler. I was like six, this made perfect sense. Luckily for her, the parents noticed before I could actually kill her.
And it gets better from here (I know, really?), but this was also the first year (in my memory at least) that my uncle set the grass on fire. Yep. He has a bad habit of setting up the newest firework on the remains of the old ones, so by the end of the night, you have one large pile of debris. easier to clean up right? Well, there were like three fireworks or so that malfunctioned, so he would put a new one and light that one, next to the one that didn’t light, and well… We had like, four light up at once and the grass didn’t like that… Luckily, they had had the foresight to bring a bucket of water and they put the fire out before it spread. They were only little fireworks after all, the big sky ones are illegal here unless your Disney or on a reservation.
So that is my far-more-melodramiatic-then-it-needed-to-be story of how my cousin traumatized me on the 4th of July. Should get you in a festive mood. Anyone else have any 4th of July mishaps? Or family related scars? I’d like to know that I’m not the only one.
Happy 4th of July!
(If you’re not American…sorry I got nothing for you today)