Happy Birthday, America
I worked 0600-1800. Two reasons. 1. Holiday Pay. 2. Holiday Potluck. Dispatchers put together a mean spread. I finished my shift about the same time Hope was wrapping up church service. We ate pizza, met @ Starbucks and then embarked on our annual pilgrimage through Foster City to see the fireworks. Along with every other person on the greater Peninsula.
I will take a moment to address Ashlyn’s hair and clothes. It’s all very rough. Yes, those are bright purple shoes with a brown and pink jogging suit. Dad was on ‘do and outfit duty and had to finish prepping a sermon. Cut us some slack.
The 4th of July has been officially declared Kayla’s favorite holiday. “The fruit bombs (fireworks) are more awesomer than my dog, Kobi when he jumps in the air…” Kobi, for the record, has not jumped in the air since 2006. She also enjoyed the “Smart Finale” (Grand Finale).
Ashlyn was mostly upset because we took her hearing aids out right before the show. But when it started she complained that her ears hurt from the noise. And that her “tomack uurt” like the Hungry Little Caterpillar when he ate too much food. Which has nothing to do with Independence Day but I can’t choose what she says.