My sons are pyromaniacs.

(The three who live here in Utah, at least.) 

Even so, this year the Erichsen-Websters had a fireworks-free Fourth. (Is anyone else lovin' on that alliteration as much as I am?)

I did not grow up lighting fireworks. My dad was a professional fire fighter and had seen too many accidents; my brother and I were lucky if we got to hold a sparkler, already lit and handed to us by an adult. As a parent, I'm not a fan of fireworks either, other than to watch the large public displays. My sons, though. My sons are pyromaniacs.

Isaiah and Eli grew up in Montana, where everyone stockpiles an artillery of explosives and spends the entire evening of the July 4th blowing things up. I never bought them a single firework, myself, but they had good friends whose parents would spend hundreds of dollars on the stuff. What's a mom to do? Really, what power did I have against this? None that I could see. And Seth...well, Seth grew up in the midst of all this, so of course he was ready to jump right on the fireworks train with his two big brothers.

And so it went for many years.

I mellowed somewhat over time, and in recent years I actually sort of enjoyed watching the three of them bond over this activity. They older they got, the less nervous I was. Their increasing maturity soothed my fearful heart, at least to some extent. At Angel House, I would set up chairs outside in the front yard for Shulamith and me, grab Diet Cokes and some unhealthy snacks, and watch them blow up the world. It made all three of them so happy. Pyromaniacs, I tell ya.

That did not happen this year. With the drought and fire hazard, Isaiah declared that we would not be lighting any fireworks this year. "I can't think of a safe, responsible location to do it," he said. End of discussion. I'm proud of him, as I always am, as well as of Eli and Seth, who (though sad) fully agreed.

So our 4th of July celebration was really a non-celebration for the most part. Amanda cooked us all delicious spaghetti. We sang to Shulamith's 7-year-old daughter, Kennedy, whose birthday was July 5th. We ate some birthday cake. Yeah. That's basically it. Around 6:30, I went home with Eli and Amanda and spent the rest of the evening with them. Later that night as they were driving me home, we saw numerous displays of fireworks in the sky all around us. They live up on a hill in Herriman that overlooks the valley, and at 10:00 p.m., the sky exploded with fire. 

I guess our 4th wasn't entirely fireworks-free after all.