Oh, that beautiful Fourth of July mass pyromania. Even if you aren't from the U.S., you gotta enjoy fireworks, any controlled explosion, really (my sincere condolences to PTSD victims). My wife and I loved them. This year will be my first without her, driving out with my family to a fireworks display 45 minutes or an hour outside of town, one the folks attend annually. The fact that I still want to go, even despite the saccharine-patriotic country music they blare, is a miracle.
This particular fireworks display, of course, has history with my wife and I. There was the year we got lost driving home. I didn't want to tell her (as I was driving), just how little I knew where we were. This was back before GPS and cell phone navigation. The technology existed, but we were broke. I'm an Eagle Scout with the Orienteering Merit Badge, I rarely lose my way, and inside, I was panicking. I would've even swallowed my man-pride and asked for directions, if it hadn't been out in the middle of the nobody-awake-this-late boonies.
Being utterly lost in rural back roads with my wife at night was kind of like playing slot machines. The blinking lights and rewarding sounds totally make up for any embarrassing losings. I did admit to being lost, and we laughed our way home, hours after my parents and sister. I could completely lose my sense of direction, but as long as I knew where my S.O. was, it was just another fireworks afterparty.
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I hope you brought enough comment to share with the whole class!