Fireworks
It’s something that transcends age and understanding. That much was clear after spending an otherwise trying afternoon at Busch Gardens yesterday. It was the reason we subjected ourselves to the unrelenting heat of a summer afternoon in the concrete jungle of a central Florida theme park. It was the reason we kept trying to get in, even after we discovered that the parking lot and two of the over-flow lots were closed. It was the reason I waited in the drop off circle (to drop everyone else off), and drove five miles to U.S.F. to park at the Sun Dome and take a bus back to the park. It was the reason I ate some of the toughest baby-back ribs I’ve ever strained a neck muscle over.
All of that was forgotten when the fireworks started and Adam woke up. There were the four of us staring at the lights in the sky. My fatigue was completely forgotten, seeing the look on Adam’s face as he stared with joy and wonder at his first Fourth of July celebration.
There would be plenty of time to suffer the aches and pains of a “day at the park” on the ride home.