When we first moved to Small Town my parents and siblings and I drove around that year in search of fireworks hoping we would just see some and drive in that direction. It was rough. There were a few here and a few there but it was disappointing to say the least.
Over the years we have figured out the Small Town 4th of July drill. Parade down main in the morning. Snack at a local cafe. Hotdogs and other BBQ on the back porch. Fireworks on our block for the kiddos including at least one person being burned by a sparkler. Then off to the fair grounds for the big fireworks.
When we were teenagers, and mom and dad got the hankerin’, we would skip the whole Small Town thing and go up to Itty Bitty Tourist Town. It was a mining town and now just a little tourist trap. There is a street fair complete with turkey legs and a fireworks show that you can basically just stop where ever you are in the town and watch as the fire department lights it all off from a cliff overhanging the town. Itty Bitty is little ways away though so it’s a drive.
Now that I have kids, I’m realizing what poor timing all this celebrating is. The parade is in the morning so we have to get up and get ready. I like to paint the kids faces because I’m “that” mom. Then we eat all day and then wait and wait for the sun to go down for the fireworks and toddlers are basically a mess by the time the good fireworks show is going.
I seem to remember a time when seat belts weren’t such a crime to forgo and my dad put a mattress in the back of the pickup and we all watched the fireworks in our PJs and sleeping bags and he just drove back home with us all asleep back there and left us in there all night. We loved it. Now, you would think we were abusing our kids if we did that but… that’s how I grew up and in Small Town, it was GREAT!