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Before we started, Colt asked, “Why would anybody want to kill a mockingbird?”

Borrowing a quote from the book I said, “It’s a sin to kill a Mockingbird. Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy.”

Colt replied, “I bet God doesn’t mind if you kill a squirrel or two – they are annoying!”

We agreed that a sequel titled, “To Kill a Squirrel” would be an instant best seller!

I finally get the kids tucked in, stories told with their favorite stuffed friend in place. As I leave with promises of sweet dreams, we hear the pops. Fireworks were going off for a pre-4th of July show in Fort Worth. Without saying a word, we all ran for the front door and seconds later, we were standing in the front yard, barefoot and in our pajamas, watching the skies light up.

What is it about fireworks? They appeal to all of us except for Scooter, our new puppy, who chose to stay hidden under the bed rather than join us outside. We didn’t speak to each other instead allowing the fireworks to do all of the talking. As usual, they were over too quickly and Luke whimpered as we returned to bedtime.

Extra kisses were needed.

“When will we see the fireworks again,” he cried.

“Just in a couple of days, on the 4th of July!

That’s too long,” he sighed.

A couple of more kisses and then this whisper, “I know mommy! Maybe they will be in my dreams!”

Sweet dreams indeed!

Lemonade Stands,

Fireworks,

Homeruns in the 9th inning,

And, on a rare occasion, a broken fire hydrant.

It happened today. While the men worked to fix the broken pipe – the fire hydrant across the street spewed gallons of cold, wet, and oh-so-fun water into the yard. I grabbed the kids and the camera and made a memory.

We grown-ups huff and puff about video games and “Kids these days”. Still, I am happy to report that my boys dropped their remotes and ran for the water. A runaway fire hydrant has that magic that wakes the spirit of a child and calls him to play.

Although it is unlikely our street will be fortunate enough to have another broken fire hydrant, I’m confident that summer will produce a few more childhood enchantments – I’m keeping my fingers crossed for the song of the ice-cream truck. This kid-at-heart has a hankering for mint chocolate chip!

My six-year-old let out a cry (that did not at all resemble a cheer) and fell to the dirt in exasperation that this scorching game was going to continue into extra innings. What made it worse was the hyper-prepared mommy that sat immediately next to the blistering bleachers.

Not only did she arrive with the obligatory water bottles – this over achiever came with a tent! Yes, a tent! A tent that had battery operated fans, squirt guns, water balloons, and 5 collapsible chairs with cup holders, leg rests and names embroidered on the back of each one. I hated her. Watching her made me hot with heat and hot with envy.

Luke looked at her and then looked back at me. Before he opened his mouth I put my hand up and said, “Don’t even go there!” He shut his mouth and slumped his shoulders. “Look honey,” I said. “Mommy brought an umbrella that can give us a little shade.” I opened it – and yes, you guessed it – the fabric had popped off the metal frame rendering it useless.

Polly Perfect glanced over at me and gave me a weak “what kind of mother are you?” smile that left me feeling defeated. And then…. My field of Nightmares turned into a Field of Dreams. A breeze (that could only have come by my sympathetic angel flapping her wings in revenge) caused the tent to fly up and over two sweaty bystanders and land upside down in a crumpled heap. Chaos ensued! The collapsible chairs collapsed, water spilled everywhere and the portable fans spun round and round in a circle in the dirt until someone could stand them right side up.

Everything soon returned to normal and Luke and I resumed our position on the metal bleachers while Polly Perfect (not feeling as Perfect) was able to re-pitch the tent before the final runner came home. My heart went out to her – because now we were bonded. Even when we try to be as prepared as possible – a bee-sting, or tummy ache, or spilt cheerios, or an unexpected wind will keep all of us card-carrying life-time members of the not-so-perfect club!