Broken rules

We actually went and saw fireworks this year. "What?!" you say? Yes, it's true, we don't do it every year. 10pm is not only a late hour for my kids, it somehow draws out the worst in my kids when they go to bed 4 hours past their bedtime. They get it from their mother.

But this year, their mother ignored the fact that the ride home and the act of getting them in their beds {with their teeth brushed} was going to be more of an undertaking than both their parents might be able to handle on that particular, hot day. She put her foot down and told their father that they were all going. Meltdowns or not.

The girls actually paid attention to the fireworks, for the first 10 minutes. Then they were distracted by their newly found privilege of playing on top of the car. So, their mom and dad left early and, as chance would have it, still got to see the grand finale just before they pulled out of the very crowded parking lot where they would have been stuck in traffic for another 15 minutes with a baby screaming bloody murder. So it all worked out fine.

Previously that day the girls and I drove to Gregory, MI to my great uncle's house for an Allen family reunion. Now, Adam and I have a thing for funny signs and I just had to snap a pic of this one.

Yes, there is a Hell, MI.

And, what 4th of July weekend would be complete without fattening, junk food? Smores cookies were my newly found, very American, sweet treat that I couldn't help but bake.