In my family it's ok to blow things up

Last night we had our family 4th of July party. We've started a tradition in my family of having a war on the 4th of July. The kids setup the two armies, which consisted of two groups of brown and green plastic army men. They started out by throwing hand grenades (snaps) at each other. We made sure to setup some smoke screens (smoke bombs) to cover our movement. After it got dark we started with tanks, and some helicopters. We lit off some cluster bombs (crackle things). We kept on lighting off pyschotic flares (flowers). Every now and again we'd see the cruel enemy light off a flare or some other explosive device with a soldier attached to it. We didn't feel too bad returning the favor.

You would think that me and my 3 Older brothers, all responsible adults (supposedly), could manage this all without anybody getting hurt. We pulled it off, but only just. I've got burned fingers and toes (I was wearing sandals). Bob almost got hit by a tank, because it changed direction so it was facing at the kids and I kicked it. The tank turned towards Bob, but luckily he paid attention in high school gym class, and like those other poor nerds, he dodge what was thrown at him, or in this case shot. One of our smoke screens had greater aspirations then his cohorts and launched himself right inbetween mom and Tony, who didn't flinch (because he's blind) but mom did. She must have paid attention in gym class to. It's really an amazing story of survival.

I think the overwhelming theme of the night was that adults get to be irresponsible too. It's true what they say, war is hell, but this one was fun. Now I'm not sure who won the war, but I've thought about it since and decided that it wasn't brown soldiers against green, but rather big cruel brothers (and one plastic melting wife) against little toy soldiers. So yeah you guessed it, we won.