Tuesday, May 27, 2014

The Grinch Who Stole (all your f?&king) Fireworks

Although I love this great country of ours I have to admit that there is one thing about me that is inherently un-American. And that is my hatred of fireworks. Now, don't get me wrong, in a controlled setting with professionals shooting them off (Disney) they can be magical. However, RI made fireworks legal to buy (hello tax revenue) a few years back and ever since you can buy them at places like Walgreens, summers here have been a little annoying. Especially with a baby. Last year I even got into a slight *screaming match (I was the only one screaming) with some little hellions down the street.

The only acceptable fireworks show - DISNEY :)

I will not hesitate to lose my mind on anyone that shoots off the bigger types fireworks this summer. We live in a RESIDENTIAL city neighborhood...NOT THE MIDDLE OF NO WHERE. So, if you decide to shoot off fireworks anytime after 9 pm on any night of the week, expect a visit from me - the ornery, fun stopping neighborhood crazy lady. I have literally been a fun ruining, unadventurous, dream crusher (when it comes to dangerous things) my whole life and it's a role that I take very seriously.

Also, just to give you an idea of how dumb you are for shooting off huge fireworks in the first place when you are not a professional - The Mister is a FIRE PROTECTION ENGINEER and sometimes he spends his free time watching "fireworks fails" on YouTube. So the next time you want to set off fireworks just remember that when you film it and when you fail, you are being watched on YouTube like some freak show by someone way more educated, classy and professional than your trashy ass. #burn #sorrynotsorry 

Disclaimer - Shooting off fireworks in a field in the middle of no where = kind of responsible | Shooting off fireworks in the middle of the street in a CITY = Inconsiderate and trashy.

::Gets off fireworks soapbox::

*The story - It was 10 at night on a Friday. The Mister was not home as he was having a drink with a friend. Cy was sick and people down the street started lighting off fireworks. These were not the type of fireworks you can buy at Walgreens though...these were mortars and bigger explosives than drug store fireworks. You see (RI lawmakers), if you give people an inch, they will take a mile. We also live in a city, NOT in the middle of no where. As the loud fireworks started to go off, Cy woke up an started to cry. Being the (cray cray) mama bear that I am, I decided that once The Mister gets home I am going to drive around the neighborhood, find these culprits and give them a piece of my mind. So, TM gets home shortly after the fireworks start and I am officially on a mission. I drive right around the corner and spot the culprits. I drive up in my whip, with no bra on and my retainer in my cup holder (Retainer in = not bad ass...retainer in cup holder = super bad ass). I then proceed to yell expletives at these people shooting off fireworks in the middle of the street. As I am yelling, I start to realize that this is a group of CHILDREN (it's 10:30 at night by this point) the oldest one was no more than 12 y/o. Which then of course made me even more mad and forced me to tell them that "THEY SHOULD BE IN BED BY THIS TIME." After my rant, I looked over and saw their parents (who did not speak a lick of English, I could tell this by their confused faces)were sitting on the stairs of their house "supervising" the whole thing. After all was said and done, I went home very pleased with myself and my rant at a bunch of kids. Then, I wake up the next morning after it had rained very hard all night and realized I left all of my windows open after I got home from said rant and our car smelled like mildew for weeks. That karma man, she's a tricky bitch. 

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