WATER WARS, BIRTHDAY FUN, AND OTHER FOURTH OF JULY NEAR-DISASTERS

Fourth of July is also my birthday.  This actually sucks because everyone has better plans than hanging out eating birthday cake, and also I hate loud noises.  However, I am reasonably patriotic (in a Revolutionary way), so I guess it works out in the end.

This year two of my three kids and their significant others are able to make it (#3 lives many, many states away), and it's a scorcher weather-wise, so I decide to make our lives easy: chili dogs, corn muffins, various other munchies, and then chocolate pudding pie with whipped cream, and angel food cake (store-bought) with strawberries and whipped topping.  Oh, and of course, there's beer and a huge batch of sangria.

Even better than food, we have Water Wars.

First, though, let me admit that the kiddie pool is an epic failure because it won't blow up without an electric pump, which I do not have.  That is the only true logistical bummer to the day.  I do, however, have bubbles, water pistols and guns, and a cache of water balloons.

The water balloons are a challenge because, frankly, they're old.  I've had them for years in a plastic bag because I originally purchased something like 1,000 of them, and I still have 300 (or so) left.  My kitchen faucet is some fancy-schmancy thing, so I have to fill up the balloons in the bathroom.  This turns out to be hysterical because about 15% of the balloons are faulty and break while I am filling them or they let loose mostly-full from the spigot and fly around the small room.  Every time a balloon lets loose, the mirror, counter, floor, walls, and I get soaked.

For some reason, I find this wildly entertaining.

The balloon saga does not end in the filling comedy, either.  I make sure that everyone has a dozen fully-loaded water balloons at their disposal.  We intend to start with balloon games (like balloon toss, target practice...), but it rapidly turns into all-out warfare.  My daughter, who has a strong if errant arm, lobs a water balloon at my head, but I duck.  This maneuver in addition to her strong-armed aim, sends the balloon sailing over the fence behind me and into the neighbor's driveway, where the balloon promptly smacks into a car.

Suddenly, Water Wars becomes Hide-and-Seek as we all run for cover when the car alarm blares.  Oh, shit!  We are in trouble!!!!!!  My second thought is, Oh crap, I hope they're not away for the week, leaving us all to suffer through the alarm for days on end (not the first time that has happened in this neighborhood).  About forty-five seconds into the gawd-awful noise, the blaring ceases, and we continue with Water Wars, progressing to the water guns.

Once we are all reasonably cooled down, we start blowing bubbles like little kids because very little in the world is better than bubbles.  The day goes smoothly (except for apologizing to the neighbor when he goes to get something out of his car), and the kiddos are released from Mom's Birthday Custody in time to enjoy other Independence Day festivities.

I, on the other hand, must force myself to look away from the leftover, unfilled water balloons.  It's tempting, so tempting, to fill up a bunch more and go crazy dive-bombing them all over the driveway, but, at the risk of re-alarming the neighbors, I think I'll finish up the sangria and call it a successful day.