...which is why I haven't written in the last couple of days, prefering to read the blogs of others instead.
The Fourth of July has always been a pretty laid-back kind of holiday with us. We rarely went anywhere or did anything, just grilled some steaks and at dusk blew off a few fireworks for the kids. I rather like it that way. This year we went to a party, and although the food and company were excellent, I spent most of the time chasing around after the kids. They got soaked by the swimming pool without even going into it, and as evening approached and it got cooler, Sebastian began to shiver and I noted that his lips were blue. I had to strip the soaking wet T-shirts off of the kids and ask our hostess for the use of her dryer.
A light, misty drizzle began at the commencement of the lighting of the fireworks, and it became a steadier, heavier drizzle fifteen minutes later. That's when we decided it was time to go. Adrian had burned his finger trying to pick up the wrong end of a spent sparkler anyway, and it was about 9:20 or so. We prayed the rosary on the way home with the kids dozing off in their car seats.