Life with a teenage boy can be interesting. Trying at times, but definitely interesting. Especially when he is such an extrovert. There is nothing outside the limits of his curiosity, or his humor. Nothing. I like that about him (usually).
Put two of them under one roof, add the cover of darkness and sparklers, insanity is inevitable. It just is.
We went and watched the fireworks at Camp Lejeune last night, as we do every year. Nice display, though a little shorter, smaller, and less dramatic than usual. Parking was a little better handled this year, and leaving the base not the usual pain in the ass. Of course we had D with us this year, and it was his first time that he could remember going. He and J.P. hung out and kept each other occupied and out of trouble, so it worked out pretty well all the way around.
The fun really started after we got home.
Fireworks are mostly illegal in North Carolina. Well, illegal to possess. Apparently, not illegal to sell, as they sell all sorts of things in Wal-Mart, Sam’s Club, at road-side stands, etc. that I would think fall outside the law. It’s one of those things that come the approach of Independence Day, everybody just sort of ignores, I guess.
I don’t mess with them, just because they’re illegal. It’s just not worth the potential hassle to me, and I try to set a good example for the kids. But somebody gave Jane a few boxes of sparklers for the kids, and I don’t have any problem with that (they’re legal), so once we got home (10:30/11ish), I sat out on the porch and lit sparklers for the kids. They were tough to get going, so I lit them and handed them off.
Remember the two teenage boys? Yeah, that wasn’t going to be interesting enough, by any stretch.
(Crazy kids, below the fold)
“We’re going streaking up the street with the sparklers.”
“Yep. Me and D are gonna run up and down the street naked with the sparklers.”
“You’re keeping your boxers on. I don’t feel like bailing you out.”
“No butts.” I kill myself with the puns.
They look at each other. There is a pause.
Clothes go flying, sparklers get lit, and two damned near naked teenage boys begin horrifying the neighborhood. I am so proud.
Up and down the street, trailing sparks from each hand held high over their heads, run two utterly insane people that I have never seen before in my life, officer, I swear. Fortunately, no one actually called the cops, though I doubt there’d be much they could do.
It was classic. I hate myself for not thinking to grab the camera, though ours takes shitty pictures in the dark anyway.